


What He Lost

by mooselocked



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Hale Family, Alternate Universe, Angst, Eventual Smut, Everyone Is Alive, First Time, Fluff, Hale Family Feels, Literally Alternate Universe, M/M, Pack Dynamics, Slow Build, Whole Hale pack, all the feels, alt!Derek, plot heavy, seriously super slow build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-31
Updated: 2016-11-25
Packaged: 2018-08-12 04:25:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 48,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7920436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mooselocked/pseuds/mooselocked
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Stiles senior year, and the pack has kind of reached an understanding. They tolerate Derek because, hello, alpha. But nobody really likes him because, hello, asshole. But, apparently, that's not good enough.</p><p>There's something that's been watching out for the Hales for years, and she decides she's had enough of the pack's treatment of Derek. Stiles needs to learn a lesson. Lucky him.</p><p>Finding himself suddenly in a world where the Hale fire never happened, he is suddenly building relationships with all of these people he never knew existed, and getting to know a Derek he never knew was possible. But how will he get home? And, when the time comes, will he even want to?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Down the Rabbit Hole

**Author's Note:**

> I basically wrote this fic because it really annoys me how flippantly the show and fanfic treats Derek's loss. I kind of wanted to explore what an impact losing his ENTIRE family/pack might have had on Derek, and how differently he might be treated if others realized exactly what it is he lost.
> 
> This is my first fanfic ever, so be kind! I'm just venturing out into this world, after having reading it for a while. I'm not sure yet exactly how long this fic will be, but I've got the basic story lined out, so we'll see!
> 
> un-beta'd, all mistakes are my own. Hope you guys like it!

You know, at some point Stiles should probably learn not to go wandering in the woods. Alone. In the middle of the night. But this time it wasn’t his fault (mostly)! He had just been sitting in his room, up late in an attempt to actually finish his history project, when he’d heard his name. Well, not _heard_ exactly, more…felt. Whatever it was, it was like Stiles couldn’t just ignore it, and before he really even knew what he was doing, he was in the Jeep driving to the preserve. He hadn’t even changed or put on shoes, just walked out of his house in his pajama bottoms and t-shirt. So, here he was, standing as if glued to the spot behind the old, burned out Hale house. And he wasn’t alone, because that would just be too easy.

He was facing what seemed to be the source of his mysterious summoning. Best guess, Stiles would say it was a fairy or nymph or something. Her skin seemed to be made out of smooth tree bark, and her long brown hair had leaves growing in it. Her clothing, such as it was, was also made of leaves. Yeah, nymph probably. If Stiles wasn’t petrified, almost literally, he probably would have thought she was hot. So far, she had done nothing but stare at him as if measuring him up, which was awkward on top of being terrifying. Stiles cleared his throat.

“Um, hello? Greetings? I’m, uh, Stiles, although I think you already-“ He began, aiming for respectful and falling somewhere in squeaky.

“I know who you are” the fairy/nymph cut him off.

“Oh, right. Um, okay, so…do you mind if I ask who you are?”

“My name is not important. I live in these woods, and have done for many, many years. I was here when these parts were filled with laughter and children. Now they are empty”, she said, sadness creeping into her ethereal voice.

“Oh.” Stiles was at a bit of a loss for what else to say, as she seemed to be done talking for the moment and had gone back to watching him, closer now, and beginning to circle him. Still, it didn’t seem threatening so much as…curious. “I’m…sorry? I don’t really know what that has to do with me.”

“Did you ever see this place, before the fire? You would have been very young, I know.” The nymph was walking away from him now, her tone suddenly conversational. She faced the house in question without looking at him.

“Um, I think so. I don’t remember it well, but I saw it once or twice”, Stiles told her, bewildered at the direction of the conversation.

“It was quite beautiful”, she said wistfully. “But you do know one of it’s inhabitants. The oldest boy.”

“Derek?”, Stiles almost groaned. Of course this would lead back to Derek. Didn’t everything bad that happened lead back to Derek? “Yeah, I know him.”

Suddenly the nymph was right back in his face, almost giving him a heart attack. He almost fell as his body tried to get away while simultaneously being held in place by her fairy mojo. She seemed angry now, her eyes glowing orange, and Stiles heart took off at a much faster pace.

“I watched him grow from a baby, take his first steps, run under his first full moon. He is the last of them, the last of the ones I have watched over for generations. I have kept my eye on him, although he lives here no longer, and I do not like what I see.”

“Um, yeah, nobody really likes Derek. He’s kind of an ass-“

“Not in him, I do not like what I see in those around him. Including you.”

Stiles gaped at her for a moment, not understanding this turn in the conversation. Before he could question more, she had backed off and was staring at him with that calculating look in her eyes. Then she turned and began to walk away into the woods, leaving him glued to the spot.

“Wait! What do you want from me?” he called after her, trying in vain to move his feet.

“You do not understand what Derek Hale has lost, so I will make you understand. You will see me again when you have learned, Genim Stilinski.” Despite the fact that she was fading into the trees, Stiles heard every word clearly.

“What? What does that even…ugh” Stiles trailed off into muttering, realizing she had really just left him. He looked around at the now empty woods where he was stranded, unable to move. “Well, this is just typical.” That was the last thing he remembered.

 

oOo

 

“Son, get up, you’re going to be late!”

Stiles sat up suddenly, disoriented. Seeing the exasperated look on his dad’s face, he turned to the clock as he swiped at the dried drool on his cheek. 7:51.

“Jesus!” he cried, scrambling out of bed in a panic.

“I have to go” John sighed as he watched his son shove books into his backpack haphazardly. “There’s pop-tarts on the counter. Don’t drive too fast, I’d rather you be tardy than in a car wreck.”

“Got it, Dad. See you later.” As soon as his father was gone, Stiles grabbed at the nearest jeans and shirt. As he was pulling off his pajama bottoms, he noticed it. His feet were covered in dirt. Almost as if he had been walking in the preserve in the middle of the night.

“Aw, man” he groaned. Whatever, he could panic later. Right now, he had to get to school.

 

oOo

 

“Dude, are you okay? You’re kind of out of it today.” Scott asked as he set down his tray across from Stiles. They had a few classes together that morning, but this was the first time they had the opportunity to have an actual conversation.

“Yeah, I just…” Stiles sighed, and leaned forward, lowering his voice “I think something weird happened last night.”

“Weird? Weird how?” Scott asked, biting into his gross cafeteria pizza.

“Weird like…I think I was lured into the woods by a fairy.” Stiles told him. Scott just looked at him for a minute, clearly confused.

“A fairy.” he said finally.

“Or maybe a nymph. I’m not really sure if there’s a difference. I’ll have to check the bestiary.” Stiles mused, poking at his ‘fruit salad’.

“The what? Dude, was this a dirty dream? Because I really don’t want to know.” Scott just looked even more confused now.

“No! What? She just, like, called me out there to talk or something. It was really strange, but I’m not sure if it’s something I should be worried about. I mean, was it a one-time thing?”

“That is weird. Did you take anything before you went to bed? Sometimes NyQuil gives me weird dreams.”

“Dude, it wasn’t a dream. At least, I don’t think it was…I don’t think I was asleep before that. And when I woke up my feet were dirty!” Now Scott was looking at him like he was insane.

“What, Stiles, you think you were actually lured out into the woods by a fairy?” Scott asked, cautiously.

“It’s not like it would be the weirdest thing that’s happened to us this year!” Stiles exclaimed.

“Um, yes. It definitely would.”

“Okay, I guess it would make the top five” he conceded.

“Okaaay” Scott said, leaning back like he was going to humor Stiles. “So is this fairy code for a girl? Or a guy? What did this ‘fairy’ want?”

“No, Scott, it wasn’t a person. I’m telling you, it was like a spirit or something. I don’t know what she wanted, she just took me out to the old Hale house and talked about Derek. She said something about me learning something? Maybe I should ask Derek about it. He’s always such a joy to talk to,” Stiles grumbled.

“You have completely lost me, bro. Don’t the Hales hate people trespassing on their property? And who the hell is Derek?” Scott, if possible, seemed more bewildered than ever. Stiles didn’t even know where to start, just gaping at Scott for several moments.

“Derek Hale? Our fearless alpha, general asshat? What do you mean, who is Derek?”

“Alpha? What does that mean? Are you talking about Cora Hale’s older brother, is his name Derek? When have you ever talked to him?” Scott seemed to be moving from just confused to confused and concerned. “Really, dude, are you feeling okay? You’re starting to freak me out.”

“Oh my god, Scotty, I’m talking about Derek! Your alpha! Leader of the merry band of werewolves! Where is Allison, maybe she can talk some sense into you,” Stiles hissed, trying to keep his voice down to avoid making a scene. He was starting to feel panicky at how this confusing conversation was going. Now Scott was looking at Stiles like he had grown a second head.

“Werewolves? Allison, as in Allison Argent, the girl who doesn’t know I exist? _Werewolves_? Stiles, I have no idea what you’re talking about, and I really can’t tell if your serious or not. Do you need to go see the nurse? Did you take too much Adderall? Can that cause hallucinations or confusion or whatever the hell this is?” Stiles stared at Scott’s confused/scared puppy face for a moment, then stood up suddenly.

“Nevermind, Scotty. Don’t worry about it, I was just…joking. Ha. Ha.” Stiles said unconvincingly, as he backed away. Scott clearly had no idea what Stiles was talking about. Something had happened to him, and Stiles needed to get answers. Now.

He hurried down the hall toward his locker, pulling out his phone to shoot off a text to Derek. Weirdly, though, he couldn’t seem to find Derek in his contacts. Or in his recent messages. How had that happened? Whatever.

He grabbed his backpack and keys, and turned around to see Cora Hale walking down the hall, as if she belonged there.

“Cora! Woah, when did you get back?”

Cora stopped and looked at him like he was crazy. He was really tired of getting that look today.

“Get back from where? Why are you talking to me Stilinski?”

“From- Nevermind. Listen, I need to talk to your brother. Any idea where he is at the moment?”

She stared at him blankly. “My brother.”

“Yes, your brother, Derek! Where can I find him?”

“At work probably. Why do you need to talk to Derek?” She asked.

“Work? Since when does he work?”

“He’s been working at the fire station for, like, four years now. What’s going on, Stilinski?”

“I’m not actually sure what’s going on, I’ll let you know when I find out. Thanks Cora!” He called over his shoulder as he headed out to the student parking lot.

“Whatever, weirdo” Cora muttered, shaking her head.

 

oOo

 

Stiles pulled up to the fire station and was relieved to see the Camaro was one of the two cars in the lot. Seriously, since when had Derek been a fireman? Had he really been hiding that for as long as Stiles had known him? Wait, Derek hadn’t even been in town four years ago. So obviously Cora was lying about that much. But why?

“Derek! Hey, Derek!” Stiles called as he walked in the front door of the fire station. It seemed to be abandoned, although Stiles knew that wasn’t the case. Beacon Hills was big enough to be required to have a fully operational fire station, but small enough that they were rarely called and there were only a handful of fireman who weren’t on a volunteer basis.

“Hello?” a familiar voice called from the back just before Derek walked into the front room.

“Derek, oh my god, am I glad to see you!” Stiles said, suddenly feeling the urge to hug the guy. “Wow, I never thought I’d say that.”

“Um, how can I help you?” Derek asked, clearing his throat with a small frown.

“Oh, can we not talk here?” Stiles asked, lowering his voice and looking around for something that might explain Derek’s formal tone.

“I don’t see why not” said Derek, “Is there something I can do for you? You’re a student at Beacon Hills High, right? Did Cora send you?”

Stiles gaped. “Derek, what are you talking about? Have you lost your mind too? What is going on here?!?”

“Okay, let’s just calm down. Start from the beginning. Who has lost their mind?”

“Everyone! First I get lured out into the woods in the middle of the night by a freaking fairy or something who talks in riddles about me learning something, then when I try to tell Scott about it he acts like he doesn’t even _know_ about werewolves! He didn’t even know who you were, and he’s apparently not with Allison! And then I saw Cora, just chilling in the hall as if she hadn’t just fucked off to South America- when the hell did she get back, by the way?- and she kept calling me Stilinski and acting like she barely knew me! She says you’ve worked here for four years, but you haven’t even been here for four years! What the fuck, Derek?!? You’ve gotta help me out here!” Finally, Stiles had to stop to take a breath. Throughout his little rant, he had seen Derek’s face get progressively paler and his frown more pronounced. Good, finally an appropriate reaction to all this madness.

Derek stood and stepped back into the hall he had come from.

“Hey, Jeff? Will you be okay by yourself until Christina get’s here? I need to take care of something.” He called. Stiles couldn’t hear the answer, but Derek seemed satisfied by it. He walked back into the room, grabbed Stiles roughly by the arm, and pulled him outside toward the cars. Now this was back in familiar territory.

“So do you have any theories? Do you think the fairy or whatever it was cast a spell on everyone to make them forget? What’s gonna happen on the full moon, then? And what about-“

Before Stiles could continue this line of questioning, he found himself pushed against the Camaro with a hand over his mouth.

“That’s enough. I don’t know who you are or how you know what you know, but we’re going to find out. Not another word.” Derek growled, eyes glowing blue. Stiles squeaked, then Derek removed his hand.

“YOU DON’T KNOW WHO I AM?!? Wait, why are your eyes blue? You’re not the alpha? But then, who-” Stiles shouted, unable to control the outburst. Predictably, that brought the hand back.

“No” Derek hissed, “and I’ll thank you not to draw any more attention to us than you already have. What were you thinking, coming to my place of work talking about werewolves? Get in the car.”

Stunned into silence, Stiles could only obey. He climbed into the Camaro and stared unseeingly out the window until Derek pulled out on to the street toward the preserve. After a while of trying (and failing) to process everything that had happened that day, Stiles realized where they were headed. He thought it safest to ask anyway.

“Where are we going?”

“To see my mother.”

“Your mother? But, Derek, she’s…” Stiles trailed off as the Hale house came into view. Only it wasn’t the burnt out shell of a house Stiles had become familiar with, surrounded by scorched trees and abandoned woods. It was a beautiful mansion, with white shutters and flower beds on the porch. To the right of the big house was another, smaller house that had never actually existed, as far as Stiles knew. In the green front yard, a couple of kids played, barely sparing a glance at the car pulling into the drive. As Stiles watched, a tall woman with Derek’s hair and sharp features stepped out onto the porch, watching them drive up. Stiles took it all in with saucer-wide eyes.

“I don’t think I’m in Kansas anymore.”


	2. Real or not real?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deaton is cryptic as ever, then dinner with wolves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> POSSIBLE TRIGGER: Brief description of a panic attack. I didn't go into much detail, and only wrote based off my own experience with panic attacks. Read with caution if this might be a problem for you. Also, mentions of canon-compliant violence. So there's that.
> 
> Thank you guys so much for all the positive feedback from my first chapter! Putting your writing out there for anyone to read is a vulnerable experience, so I really appreciate the support!
> 
> Sorry if this story moves a little slow, I'm apparently incapable of not writing everything out, even things that could probably be cut. Plus I just had so much fun in this chapter, starting to flesh out characters that are hinted at in the show, but never developed (like the kids that are mentioned to have died in the Hale fire (whenever I say Hale fire in my head it sounds like hell fire with a southern accent. This amuses me.))
> 
> Anywho, hope you like this chapter! Un-beta'd, any mistakes are my own. I made this one longer, and this is the length I'm going to try to stick with!

Derek got out of the car, then leaned back down when he realized Stiles wasn’t moving.

“Are you coming?” he asked, not quite as rudely as Stiles would have expected from him. Although what did Stiles know? Apparently the last few years had been a figment of his imagination. Or was this the hallucination? Oh, god.

“I don’t…know…” was all Stiles could manage, dazed. Derek sighed and came around the car, opening the door for him.

“Come on”, he said, helping Stiles unsteadily to his feet. Throughout this process, Derek’s mother just watched from the porch. Derek led Stiles toward her and Stiles’ eyes wandered, taking in every new detail of the house and area. The kids in the lawn had stopped to watch the proceedings, and Stiles noticed that they also had Derek’s green eyes, although the boy was blonde and the girl had hair that was a reddish brown.

“Derek. You’re home early,” the woman on the porch said as they approached. Her eyes drifted curiously to Stiles.

“Yes, we have kind of a…situation. Can we talk inside?”

“Of course,” she said, stepping back with a welcoming gesture. As Stiles dazedly followed Derek, the woman stopped him with a gentle hand on his arm. “I don’t think we’ve ever officially met. I’m Talia Hale, you may call me Talia. You’re Sheriff Stilinski’s son, right?” Stiles felt rather than saw Derek turn to stare at him.

“Yes, ma’am, I go by Stiles.” he said, swallowing nervously.

“Welcome to our home Stiles. Derek, why don’t you take him to the office. I’ll get some tea.”

Derek nodded, glanced at Stiles, and led the way to a spacious room that featured a large desk and walls of bookshelves. Stiles sat in one of the chairs Derek indicated silently. This was probably the longest Stiles had been silent in his whole life, but he couldn’t think of a single thing to say or even ask. Nothing made sense. He didn’t even have a frame of reference for what was happening. So he continued to sit in stunned silence while Derek paced and shot him perplexed glances.

Finally, the door opened and Talia walked in balancing three glasses of iced tea on a tray. After distributing the drinks, she settled in the chair opposite Stiles, offering him a reassuring smile.

“Now, why don’t you tell me what this is all about?”

“I…I don’t…I’m not sure where to start,” Stiles stuttered.

“Let’s try from the beginning, then.”

“See, that’s the thing. I don’t know where the beginning is anymore. Last night, my best friend was a werewolf in Derek’s pack, and I was kind of a part of it too, even though I’m human, and Cora was in South America or something, and Allison and Scott were practically inseparable, but now Scott doesn’t even know about werewolves apparently, and Derek doesn’t know who either of us are, and you’re- you’re here and I just…Do werewolves even exist? Am I crazy? What the hell is going on?” Stiles cut off as he got more and more worked up. Oh, no, not now. He felt light-headed and felt his breaths coming in gasps. Derek looked terrified, and Talia dropped to her knees in front of Stiles’ chair worriedly. She guided him to bend over and put his head between his knees.

“Stiles, you’re all right. I promise. Just breathe with me, okay? Deep breaths. In…and out.” Talia spoke calmly, rubbing his back until his breaths came easier. He stayed in his position until he was sure he was all right to breathe again. He unfolded himself slowly, keeping his eyes downcast, embarrassed.

“Stiles, you’re not crazy. We are werewolves, that much is true, and I am the alpha of this territory. I promise you, we will figure out what is going on,” Talia continued speaking calmly and quietly. Then she turned and looked at Derek. “I think perhaps we should call Deaton,” she said to him, and with a nod he turned and left the room.

“Deaton, of course! Why didn’t I think of that?” Stiles said, half to himself. Talia turned an amused gaze on him, seeming surprised that he knew about Deaton.

“Yes, Deaton is our emissary. I assume you already knew that?”

“Yeah, Deaton always helps us out of whatever mess we’re in. I probably should have thought of him first.”

“May I ask, why did you go to Derek?”

“I’m not really sure, actually. I think because he was the one the fairy kept talking about.” Talia’s gaze sharpened at that.

“A fairy?” she asked.

“Oh, right. I told Derek, I guess I didn’t mention it to you. Everything basically went to hell after I was…talked to? I guess that’s what happened- by a fairy or nymph or something.” Talia looked thoughtful for a moment, then stood.

“I think we had better wait to continue this conversation until Deaton is here. In the meantime, would you like something to eat?”

“Um, actually, yeah, I’m kind of hungry” he said honestly.

“Well, then, come along. I’m sure we can find something” Talia said with a smile.

oOo

An hour later, Stiles found himself back in the chair in the office. He had spent lunch making small talk with Derek and Talia Hale, which was surreal to say the least. Of course, they were limited on topics of conversation, since Talia guided the conversation away from anything involving werewolves or the differences between what Stiles remembered and the reality he found himself in.

Now, however, Deaton had arrived and was studying Stiles like he was a particularly interesting specimen. Even in this reality Scott worked with the vet, so he did at least know Stiles. Stiles wasn’t really sure what Derek had told him on the phone, but ever since Deaton had walked in he had said nothing beyond the initial greetings. He had just…stared. Stiles squirmed in his seat, uncomfortable under such an intense gaze. He cut his eyes over to Derek, who leaned against the bookshelf looking back and forth between the two. When he met Stiles eyes, he shrugged, apparently as confused as he was. Finally, Deaton spoke.

“So Stiles. It seems we’ve found ourselves in an odd position.”

“Uh, yes…sir?” Stiles replied. He usually wasn’t so formal with Deaton, but he wasn’t sure what the rules were when you were being stared down in the office of a werewolf who, until last night, had been dead.

“I must admit, I’m at a loss as to where to begin. Derek mentioned you believe you were abducted by a fairy?”

“Well, not abducted so much as…called? I don’t know, it’s like I knew I had to go. I’m not actually sure it was a fairy, it may have been a nymph or something.”

“I see. And when was this?”

“Last night. Around midnight, I think” Stiles was beginning to feel like he was being interrogated. Which wasn’t uncalled for, he supposed.

“And where did this creature take you?” Deaton asked, leaning forward and clasping his hands together. Stiles glanced toward the window behind the desk and realized he was on the side of the house where he had been standing the night before. He gestured toward the trees outside the window.

“Right about there.”

“It brought you here?” Talia asked, eyebrows raised.

“That’s impossible. We would have known if someone was right outside the house in the middle of the night,” Derek cut in speculatively.

“And did it say anything? Tell you what it wanted?” Deaton asked, ignoring the werewolves behind him.

“Um,” Stiles hesitated, looking over Deaton’s shoulders at Derek and Talia. “She, uh, she talked about how long she had lived here. And she said something about Derek, about not liking what she saw in those around him? She said I would see her again when I had ‘learned what Derek lost’ or something, and then she left me there. And then I woke up in my bed this morning, but my feet were dirty, like I’d been walking in the woods, which I was, and everything is…different,” he finished. Deaton had gone back to staring at him, but there was understanding creeping into his expression as he listened to Stiles.

“Talia, Derek,” he said, not taking his eyes of Stiles, “could we have the room, please?”

“All right,” Talia said, hesitantly. Derek frowned, but when his mother guided him out by the shoulder he didn’t protest. Deaton was quiet until the door clicked shut behind them.

“Now, Stiles, I need you to tell me exactly what this creature said to you, as best you can remember. Leave nothing out.” Deaton said seriously, once they were alone.

“Okay, but won’t they be able to hear me anyway? Super wolf ears and all that?”

Deaton smirked at that. “Certain rooms in this house have soundproofing built in to the walls. They could still hear if they stood right by the door and tried really hard, but Talia knows I would not ask her for privacy unless it is very important that they not hear what we say.”

“Oh. Why is it so important that they don’t hear this?”

“I have a theory, but first I need you to tell me the whole conversation. Every detail you remember.”

So Stiles recounted the scene in the woods, trying to remember the woman’s exact words. As he spoke, Deaton nodded along, face as frustratingly impassive as it always was. When Stiles finished, Deaton appeared lost in thought. Then he sighed.

“I take it that before this morning you knew Derek well,” he said at last. Stiles blinked.

“Sure, I guess. We’ve had to work together a lot, and we’ve saved each other’s lives a couple of times, but I wouldn’t say we’re, like, bros or anything.”

“You’ve saved each other’s lives, but you aren’t really friends” Deaton repeated, blankly.

“Um, not really?” Stiles shrugged.

“Right. And I’m assuming that Derek’s life is a bit…different than what you see around you. I can think of no positive reason that these woods would be empty of the Hale family. When the spirit says ‘what he’s lost’, do you know what she’s talking about?”

“I have a pretty good idea now, yeah. I mean I already kind of knew, but…yeah, I get it a little more now.” Stiles hedged. He still wasn’t sure how to mention to anyone the fact that as far as he knew the house he was sitting in had burned, killing everyone inside. Deaton got up and went to the window, seeming lost in thought. When he began to speak, it was without turning around.

“It is generally accepted that many areas that haven’t been touched by much human civilization have spirits attached to them. These spirits protect their land, in a way, and those that live on it. It’s rare for them to interfere with mortals, but it is not unheard of. Because of how rare it is, we really have no idea of the nature or scope of their powers” He sighed again, and turned to face Stiles.

“It seems clear to me that this world is not yours. It is possible that this is another world, an alternate reality or parallel universe, if such things exist. Or maybe we are simply a once-possible future. A future that could have been, but wasn’t. I have to say, I hope that is not the case, but it’s possible this world is nothing but an illusion.” Stiles took a deep breath. That, terrifyingly, made sense.

“So, how do I get home, or wake up, or whatever? How do I get out of here?”

“I’m afraid I have no idea. I can do some research, but as I said, these types of situations are extremely rare. There might not be a precedent to learn from.” Deaton said. Seeing the dread in Stiles’ face he offered a small, reassuring smile. “It seems that the spirit had a lesson in mind for you to learn. As I said, I’ll see what I can do, but in the meantime I would recommend spending as much time as you can with the Hales, Derek specifically. Maybe this will speed up the process and the spirit will send you home sooner rather than later. Who knows, you might find yourself learning something after all.” Stiles just stared at him, numb. Deaton walked forward and put a warm hand on his shoulder.

“It will be all right Stiles, one way or another. These spirits are not malevolent. If she sent you here, I’m sure it’s for a purpose. And she told you that you would see her again, so we have every reason to believe she intends to send you home again. I’ll explain the situation to Talia, I’m sure she’ll be happy to have you as an honorary pack member for the time being”

Stiles followed the vet back through the house, toward the kitchen. When they entered, both Talia and Derek immediately turned to face them expectantly. Stiles just met their gazes, wide-eyed and still in shock, while Deaton cleared his throat and dove right in.

“I believe Stiles here has been displaced, either from another universe or reality. As you told me on the phone, he seems to be telling the truth about his experiences, and the creature he encountered last night sounds like it may have been a spirit who protects these woods. I will do everything I can to get him back to his home, but in the meantime I think it best that he spend as much time with the pack as possible. It is probably best not to ask him too many questions about the specific circumstances of his world, but I don’t see why the adults shouldn’t know the general situation. Perhaps you should just tell the children he is a friend, but I’ll leave that to your discretion.” There was a moment of silence as everyone tried to absorb this information.

“I see,” Talia said, at last. “Well, then. Stiles, we’ll be glad to help you in any way that we can. Perhaps we can have a meeting before dinner and introduce you to the pack. Can you stay for dinner? Will your father be expecting you?”

“I’m…not actually sure. I’ll just text him, just in case.” He pulled out his phone, ignoring the million messages from Scott, and tapped out a quick text to his dad.

_**Hey Dad, at Cora Hale’s house working on a project. Be home before curfew** _

He hoped this Stiles had the same curfew he did. This Stiles. Woah. Was there some other Stiles in his body right now? Or was this all in his head, like Deaton thought it might be? He was going to give himself a headache.

“All right, then. Derek, why don’t you and Stiles take a little walk, show him some of the property? I need to make sure Julie is doing all right with the kids and call your father. We’ll have a meeting before dinner.” Rather than looking put out or frustrated, both expressions Stiles was accustomed to seeing on Derek’s face, Derek just nodded amicably and looked to Stiles.

“That okay with you?” he asked.

“Sure, yeah, sure” Stiles got out, standing suddenly.

“Stiles, feel free to call me if you need anything. I’ll try to find anything I can.” Deaton told him, again with the reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“Right. Thanks for, um, just, thanks,” Stiles said lamely, nervously raking a hand through his hair.

“Come on. Let’s get some air.” Suddenly, Derek was barely touching Stiles’ arm, leading him toward the kitchen door.

 oOo

The walked in silence for quite a while, Stiles shell-shocked and Derek contemplative. Silence was not a setting Stiles was used to or particularly comfortable with, but his brain seemed to have completely stalled out. Finally, they reached the large pond that was at the foot of where the mountain incline began to get steeper. Derek had only been glancing at him periodically, but now he leaned against a tree and regarded Stiles openly.

“So. How are you feeling?” he asked.

“I don’t know. Confused? Sorta numb? I don’t really have a frame of reference for processing this”, Stiles replied, attempting a laugh.

“You being here…it has something to do with me?”, Derek asked cautiously.

“Yeah, I guess it does. I don’t think you had anything to do with it, though. Real-you I mean,” Stiles said, thoughtlessly. Suddenly, he realized how that might have sounded. “I mean, other-you! Not that you’re not real, I didn’t mean-“

“No, I know what you meant” Derek interrupted, letting him off the hook with an amused smirk. “So, you and this other-me, we’re…friends?”

“Kind of. Well, not really, actually. More like allies,” Stiles replied. Stupid werewolves. He knew he couldn’t pretend, Derek would know if he was lying. The truth got him a quizzical look. Man, who knew Derek’s face could make so many expressions? Before today, Stiles had pretty much only seen grumpy and seriously pissed.

“Allies? What does that mean?” He asked, eyebrows raised.

“It pretty much means we save each other’s skins when we need to, but we don’t really get along other than that. I’m sort of pack, though, so there’s that.” How could Stiles explain his relationship with Derek, to Derek? Apparently he wasn’t doing a very good job, because now Derek looked downright incredulous.

“You save my skin?”

“No need to sound so surprised, I can be resourceful when I need to be!” Stiles said indignantly. “Well, that, and I have the habit of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Or, I guess, right place for you. Cause otherwise you’d probably be dead by now.”

“So, then, why don’t we get along?”

“Oh, I don’t know, probably because we can barely be in the same room without you threatening me with bodily harm” Stiles shot back, sarcastically. This seemed to be surprising to Derek, but also amusing.

“Hmm. Well, in that case, you probably deserve it”, he said with a smirk.

“Hey! I absolutely do not! I am a damn delight, you’d be lucky to have my friendship” Stiles informed him, flailing his arms dramatically. This got an honest-to-god smile out of Derek. Stiles actually felt his heart stop for a second, and wondered if Derek could tell. Going by the smirk now directed at Stiles, he totally could. Damn.

“Well, I guess we’re going to find out now”, Derek said, a smile still playing at the corners of his mouth as he backed away from Stiles, closer to the edge of the pond. He turned and faced the water, sitting down on the ground and leaning back on his hands. Stiles stared after him for a second, then followed. After a second, Derek let out a heavy sigh.

“I have so many questions that I’m dying to ask, but I think Deaton’s probably right. It’s best if we don’t know too many specifics”, he said. Stiles looked over his shoulder from where he had his elbows resting on his knees.

“Then tell me about how it is here. You’re a fireman here? How did that happen?”

So Derek launched into the single longest string of words Stiles had ever heard from that mouth. As he talked about how he’d always known that’s what he wanted, and about attending Fire Academy in Sac, Stiles just watched him, baffled. How could this possibly be the same sour wolf Stiles had come to know over the last couple of years? He looked exactly the same, and Stiles should know. He was neither blind, nor in complete denial of the fact he was obviously attracted to men as well as women. But where the Derek he knew was withdrawn, this one was open. He had never realized how much tension his Derek carried until he saw how relaxed this one was. Well, not his Derek, but…actually, that might be the easiest way to differentiate them. Just in his head.

So Stiles sat by the pond and carried on a conversation with Derek until they both lost track of time. Suddenly, Derek tilted his head back toward the direction they had come. He stood and offered a hand to help Stiles up.

“Come on. My dad’s home, that means everyone else will be there soon.”

oOo

As Stiles followed Derek back into the kitchen, there were four sets of eyes on him, as if they’d heard him coming a mile away. Which they probably had. He offered an awkward wave and smile. Talia had been joined by Cora, a tall man with a full head of salt-and-pepper hair and glasses, and a petite blonde woman. Cora grinned at him with sharp teeth, letting her eyes flash gold.

“So, Stilinski, I hear you’ve gotten yourself into quite a mess.”

“Cora…”, her mother admonished, while the man hid a smile behind his hand.

“What? It’s not like he doesn’t know,” Cora huffed.

“Hello, Stiles. My name is Julie, I’m Talia’s sister-in-law. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” the blonde woman said, walking forward and pulling Stiles into an unexpected hug. “We’re glad to help you in any way we can for as long as you’re here.” She stepped back and patted him on the cheek before walking away to check something in the oven.

“Um, thanks,” Stiles replied.

“And I’m Luke Hale, Derek’s father”, the man said, offering his hand to give Stiles’ a hearty shake. “I work with your father on occasion. Good man, Sheriff Stilinski.”

“Yes, sir, he is. Are you in law enforcement?” Stiles asked politely.

“No, that’d be David, Laura’s husband”, Luke chuckled. “No, I’m a lawyer, mostly small cases around here. Sometimes your father helps with the cases that come my way.”

“Oh, right, okay,” Stiles said. Suddenly every werewolf in the room glanced toward the door, and Derek groaned. It was a few moments before Stiles could hear the new, female voice drifting through the door.

“Mom, what is that- OH MY GOD,” the girl stopped short when she saw Stiles. She took in his position beside Derek and grinned hugely. “Oh my _god_! Derek finally brought someone home?!? I never thought this day would come!” She threw herself dramatically at Stiles, sweeping him up in a crushing hug.

“Laura, that’s not-“

“I can’t believe I had no idea! Have you guys been dating long? How did you meet? How did you hide this for so long?” Laura shot off in quick succession, arms still around a spluttering Stiles. Cora was quietly snickering, leaning on her father.

“What? Dating? I don’t-“

“Oh, wait, first things first. I’m Laura, Derek’s favorite older sister-“

“Only older sister-“

“-whose goal in life is to humiliate her brother as much as humanly possible, and I am shocked that this is the first I’ve heard of you, when you’re _meeting the family._ What’s your name?” she asked, looking him directly in the eye.

“Um, I’m Stiles. Stilinski. Well, Stiles isn’t really my name, but that’s what I go by.” Laura unclasped one arm from his shoulder with a gasp, only to turn around and whack her brother with it.

“The sheriff’s son? The scandal!” she hissed at him with a grin. Cora burst into peals of laughter.

“Laura, dear, I think you’re misreading the situation”, Talia cut in with an amused smile, “Derek and Stiles are not…together.”

“They’re not?” Laura repeated, disbelieving.

“No.” Derek replied adamantly. She still turned to look at Stiles for confirmation, and he shook his head.

“Oh,” she said, finally releasing Stiles completely. “Well, that’s disappointing. What are you doing here, then?”

“Well, that’s kind of a long story…”, Stiles hedged.

“That it is. We’re going to have a meeting before dinner to explain the situation. Nothing to worry about,” Luke filled in for him.

“Hmm, intriguing”, Laura said, eyeing him from her new position sitting on the counter. “Well, it’s nice to meet you anyway Stiles.”

“Thanks, I-“

“Something smells just lovely in here.” a horribly familiar voice suddenly said from over Stiles shoulder.

Stiles couldn’t control his knee-jerk fear reaction, stumbling a step away from the voice with a muttered curse. Obviously everyone in the room could hear the sudden uptick in his heartbeat and smell the shock of fear that had shot through him. Most of them were either looking at him confusedly, or searching around for the potential threat. Stiles turned slowly to meet familiar blue eyes, now trained on him quizzically.

“Hello,” he said, question evident in his voice, “I’m Peter, brother to Talia. Have we met?”

“Uh, no,” Stiles said. He winced as he realized everyone in the room had heard the lie. Damn werewolves. “Well, not…really. Not here.” he tried to clarify. That only seemed to confuse Peter more, as he tilted his head and frowned at Stiles. Stiles tried to not be nervous, but it was pretty much a lost cause.

“Don’t frighten our guest, darling,” Julie said, appearing beside Peter and kissing him on the cheek.

“That wasn’t my intention,” Peter mused, still scrutinizing Stiles. Then he turned to his wife. “As I was saying, dinner smells wonderful. Where are the children?”

“Tyler and Devon are with them, and I believe Danica should be here now.”

“And David should be here any minute. Shall we move this into the office, then? The children should be fine for a few minutes”, Talia said to the group. Stiles was amazed by how many people lived here. Derek seemed to catch on to his mood and smiled at him.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get the hang of it. Besides, you should already know some of us.”

Stiles tried to smile back, and vowed not to let on how depressingly short that list was.

oOo

Stiles looked around the noisy, crowded table in awe. The meeting had gone smoothly, actually, with Talia explaining to the adults basically what Deaton had said to her. Stiles was glad Deaton had left out the whole ‘it all may possibly be in his head’ thing. That was weird enough for him to think about, and he was the one that definitely existed. As much as anything ever definitely existed. Oh my god.

Besides the ones Stiles had met in the kitchen earlier, there were really only two more adults that made up the pack. Danica, the younger sister of Talia and Peter, was in her early 30’s and had Talia’s dark hair with streaks of bright red in it, and Peter’s blue eyes. David was Laura’s husband, a deputy with reddish brown hair and a friendly smile. It was strange for Stiles to meet someone who worked closely with his dad, but who didn’t exist in Stiles’ world.

Then there were the children. Tyler was the next youngest below Cora at 14, just finishing up eighth grade. He clearly was unimpressed when he realized the grown-ups had been in a meeting to which he wasn’t invited. In spite of Talia’s introduction of Stiles as a friend of the family, Tyler kept eyeing him suspiciously across the table. Then there was Devon, the youngest of Talia’s lot. He was 11 and much more trusting than his brother.

Peter and Julie had two of their own, and Stiles had picked up from the conversation that she was expecting their third. She wasn’t far enough along to be showing yet, but he supposed pregnancy would be a hard thing to hide in a house full of werewolves. They had a boy, Jonas, who was 9, and a girl, Willow, who was 5. Then there were Laura and David’s two girls, Elise and Lucy, aged 6 and 2.

Stiles had learned that Julie was the den maker, which meant she stayed home with the small ones during the day, and was in charge of much of the cooking and cleaning. She delegated quite a bit, obviously, with a house and family this size, but ultimately it was her decision.

Now, Stiles sat sandwiched between Derek and Laura, as dishes of casserole and vegetables made their way around the table.

“So, Laura, where do you work?”, he asked.

“Dani and I own the little coffee shop near the theater, Hunting Grounds”, she said, nodding her head toward where Danica was helping little Willow cut her food. Stiles snorted at the name, and Laura grinned at him, “Like that, play on words? Seemed fitting for a coffee shop owned by wolves. Our coffee is damn good, if I do say so myself. Ever been there?”

“Uh, no. No, I haven’t,” he replied, fairly certain that there wasn’t a coffee shop near the theater in his reality.

“Oh, weird. Well, you’ll just have to come in some time”, she said. David leaned around her to join the conversation.

“I’ve gotta say, Stiles, it’s weird seeing you here and you not knowing who I am. I see you around the station all the time, but I guess you don’t remember that, huh?”, he asked.

“No, I guess not”, Stiles said.

“So when did we first meet, Stiles?”, Laura asked, playfully. Stiles looked down at his plate and swallowed hard.

“Laura, we’re not supposed to ask him for specifics”, Derek reminded her from Stiles’ other side. Stiles shrugged at her helplessly and tried to smile, but the damage was done. He couldn’t help picturing the vague memory of finding half her body in the woods after she had been brutally killed for her power, by her uncle whom she had loved and trusted. He thought of Derek, burying the half of his sister he had left. This smiling, open man beside him, alone in these woods burying the only family he had left. He swallowed again against a wave of guilt and pain. He had been so thoughtless, never given her the respect she deserved.

Derek nudged him gently with his elbow.

“Hey, you okay?”, he asked, frowning at Stiles.

“Huh? Yeah, I’m good! Man, this is some great…casserole!”, Stiles said as enthusiastically as he could, realizing belatedly that he wasn’t actually sure exactly what he was eating. It seemed to appease Derek though, as he gave him a half-smile and turned back to his conversation with Luke on his other side.

Stiles looked back at his plate with a sigh, only then realizing that Laura was still watching him with a concerned look in her eye. When he met her gaze, though, she just hummed thoughtfully and went back to eating. Stiles glanced around the table and noticed that Peter, too, was watching him speculatively. He couldn’t quite hide his grimace at that particular familiar brand of discomfort. Rather than be offended by his obvious distaste, though, Peter just seemed amused. Maybe even intrigued. Asshole. Stiles nobly resisted the urge to stick his tongue out at the guy.

Before long, David was leaning back over to ask him some question about school, which led to Cora shouting her disagreement across the table, which led to Talia admonishing her for shouting, and the awkward moment was forgotten. But it had sort of put things in perspective for Stiles. And he wasn’t sure that he liked it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for reading! Feel free to leave any feedback, but be kind! Remember I'm new at this =)
> 
> I'll try to post every Sunday until it's finished (whenever that is).
> 
> Until then, you can find me on my new tumblr: [fanlocked-writergirl](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/fanlocked-writergirl)


	3. Hunting Grounds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's a little late! It's been a crazy week!
> 
> Hope you guys like this chapter! 
> 
> Un-beta'd my mistakes are my own (and I wrote this chapter super late, so there might be more than usual).
> 
> As always, I welcome any feedback! Thanks so much for reading, I hope I don't dissapoint!

School the next day was an odd experience. Now that he wasn’t running late or skipping half the day, he could see exactly how much was different. He saw Erica in the hall, but rather than the bombshell he had grown to love, she was in sweats and no makeup and avoided his gaze with her head down.

He hadn’t thought it all that odd the day before when Isaac had barely responded to his greeting in third period, and hadn’t spoken to him otherwise, he’d just chalked it up to the difficulty of the class. Now, though, it was obvious that Isaac wasn’t talking to him because they weren’t friends. When he pushed up the sleeves of his sweater halfway through class, Stiles noticed deep bruises in his arm, about the size and shape of fingerprints. Isaac saw him looking, and quickly pulled his sleeves back down, not meeting Stiles’ eyes.

At lunch, it was just him and Scott again. He supposed without the pack this was how it always was. He looked around and saw Allison sitting with Lydia and Jackson, none of whom seemed to even realize he or Scott were alive. Man, Stiles didn’t remember the days when it was just him and Scott being this lonely.

“Dude, what happened to you yesterday? You just flipped out at lunch and then vanished! I tried texting you, I was really freaked!”, Scott said earnestly as they sat down.

“Sorry, man, it was just…it was like you said, something weird with my medicine”, Stiles lied, glad that Scott didn’t have his supersonic hearing anymore. Or know anything at all about ADHD medication, apparently.

“Well, I hope you got it figured out. You were saying some crazy stuff, talking about people we don’t know, and werewolves, and fairies….it was really weird, man.”

“Yeah, it’s all good now. No big.”, Stiles said. “Hey, how many times do you think I can hit Jackson with my stick and practice this afternoon without him realizing it’s not an accident?” He asked, successfully redirecting the conversation.

In the last period of the day, Stiles walked to the back of the classroom and threw his stuff down on the desk next to Boyd without thinking, then looked over to see Boyd staring at him in bewilderment.

“Sorry, is that…I mean, can I sit here?”, Stiles asked. It didn’t seem like anyone else was headed back to this area of the classroom, but maybe someone usually sat here?

“No, that’s fine”, Boyd said quickly. Stiles suddenly remembered how Boyd had always faded into the background, how he had become a werewolf to feel a part of something. He offered him a friendly smile.

“Cool, thanks man”, he said as he sat down. Boyd had always been difficult to read, but Stiles thought he looked pleased.

oOo

By the time Stile left lacrosse practice, he was exhausted. As a senior, he actually got to play more, but it was weird not to see Scott showing off with his mad wolf skills. Besides that, his ‘poke Jackson with a stick’ plan had backfired pretty quickly, leading to him being personally targeted by Jackson and his minions for most of the practice. Yep, Jackson was still the assiest of hats. Nice to know some things never changed. At least Danny was still nice.

He pulled onto his street to see a familiar black camaro parked on the street in front of his house, with someone leaning against it. Derek waved as he pulled into the driveway, stepping away from the car. He was wearing jeans and a Beacon Hills Fire Department t-shirt, obviously having just come from work.

“Hey, man! Actually waiting outside my house? That’s new”, Stiles said as he got out of the jeep.

“Well, I thought it might be weird to break in the front door,” Derek replied with a quizzical smile.

“Yeah, you usually go straight for my bedroom window. This works, too.” Derek’s eyebrows shot up at that and Stiles realized how that might have sounded and spluttered, “Oh, I mean, not…it’s just, you kind of avoid my dad, you’re not really his favorite…nevermind. So what brings you here?” He finished lamely, scratching the back of his neck and realizing how gross he still was from practice. Derek cleared his throat, obviously fighting the urge to ask for more details.

“Well, you and Laura were talking about her coffee shop yesterday. I thought you might like to check it out”, he said.

“Oh, right! Yeah, sure, let me just go get cleaned up a little. I probably don’t smell too good right now, even to human noses”, he said, laughing self-deprecatingly. Derek looked like he might disagree for a second, but then just nodded.

“Um, so do you want to come in?”, Stiles gestured toward the house.

“Sure, yeah”, Derek replied and followed him in the front door (weird). Once inside, Derek took a deep breath and stared around, as if it was all brand new to him, which Stiles supposed it was.

“Ok, just give me like ten minutes. I’ll be super quick”, Stiles called over his shoulder as he bounded up the stairs. Derek just nodded absently as he took in the pictures hanging over the entertainment center.

When Stiles came back down after the world’s fastest shower and throwing on jeans and a t-shirt, Derek was seated on the couch, holding the frame from the end table. Stiles stopped on the bottom step, unsure of himself. He knew exactly what picture it was, of course. It was one of the last ones of the family together before his mom got sick. They had taken a vacation to San Diego when Stiles was eight, and in the picture he was swept up on his dad’s shoulder and they were all laughing as his mom took the picture, selfie-style. The photo always sat on that end table, so it wasn’t really private or anything, but it still made him feel vulnerable somehow. He had never shared that part of his life with Derek.

“I remember your mother. She was always so kind,” Derek said, breaking the silence. Stiles hadn’t realized Derek had ever met his mom. “We were all so sad to hear when she got sick. You look so happy here, I can’t imagine…”, he trailed off, shaking his head. Stiles was silent as Derek set the picture back on the table and walked toward him. He wondered if Derek could feel or smell the sadness filling him, if there was any way he could know that some of it was for him. They watched each other for a moment, and Derek offered him a sad smile.

“You have her eyes”, he said simply, raising a hand to barely brush Stiles’ cheek. Stiles swallowed. After a beat, Derek’s smile turned warmer, and he lowered his hand and jerked his head toward the door.

“Shall we?”

 

oOo

 

Hunting Grounds was everything you could ask for from a privately-owned, hipster coffee shop; all earth-tones and vintage posters. There was a long bar along the window facing out, and several mismatched tables around, currently occupied by various groups of young people as well as individuals fully invested in their laptops or books. In the back corner across from the counter there was a cozy-looking fireplace, surrounded by worn, mismatched couches. Stiles was surprised to see Isaac behind the counter, wearing a brown apron over his long-sleeved shirt.

“Hey Isaac!”, he said cheerfully, approaching the counter and taking in the delicious, homemade looking display of scones and muffins. Isaac smiled back, a little shy and seeming surprised at Stiles’ familiarity with him.

“Hey, Stiles, Derek. Can I get you guys anything?”

Before they could answer, the curtain to the back room was flung aside dramatically to reveal Laura, beaming at them as if she hadn’t seen them in years. She strolled forward and squeezed Stiles into a hug that was a bit too tight by non-werewolf standards.

“Stiles! I’m so glad you could come check out my place! Isaac, make Stiles a caramel mocha!”, she pulled back to command over her shoulder. She turned back to Stiles with a bright smile. “It’ll make you never look at Starbucks again.”

“Hey, Laura”, Derek sighed fondly.

“Hello, my favorite brother”, she said, kissing him on the cheek.

“Should I keep that a secret from Tyler and Devon?”, Stiles asked with a grin. She shrugged nonchalantly and leaned back against the counter.

“They already know”, she said, turning to inspect the muffins beside her. Stiles laughed. The curtain moved aside again, and Danica walked out in a tight black dress and heels.

“Another date, Aunt Dani? Do we know him?”, Derek asked with a smile.

“No, and you probably never will”, Danica replied with a quirk of her eyebrow. “Laura, we need to make fresh muffins in the morning, so whatever’s left over you can let Isaac take what he wants and bring the rest home.” She turned to Stiles next. “Hello, Stiles, good to see you again. I’d love to stay and chat, but I really have to go”, she said with a pat on his cheek. Man, these werewolves were tactile.

“No worries,” he replied. She smiled and offered them all a little wave, then turned to the door.

“Have fun”, Laura called after her, waggling her eyebrows suggestively.

 oOo

Two caramel mochas later, Stiles was falling off the couch laughing as Laura told him about the time Derek had literally been called to save a cat from a tree.

“What was I supposed to do? It could sense the wolf in me, I was just scaring it more! It kept going higher, and I had to follow it!”, Derek protested, face red.

“He climbed so high that the branches couldn’t hold him, so he fell out of the tree!”, Laura howled, “Oh, what I would have paid to see him just fall right out of that tree!”

“The worst part was, my coworkers _saw_ me break my wrist,” Derek moaned.

“Four weeks! Four weeks he had to wear a cast on his perfectly healed wrist because otherwise people would ask questions” Laura finished. Stiles abs hurt from laughing so hard, both at the story and at Laura’s animation in telling it.

“Did you ever get the cat down?”, he asked, wiping his eyes. Derek glared at him.

“Christina climbed on to the lowest branch and just called the damn thing, and it came right down.” he growled. Laura and Stiles burst out in fresh peals of laughter.

“Um, Laura?” Isaac stood by the couch, awkwardly scratching his neck. “Sorry to interrupt, but I think we’re out of vanilla.”

“Oh, there should be more in the back. We just haven’t unpacked it yet”, Laura told him. Then she grinned “Oh, hey, you and Stiles know each other, right? Got any embarrassing stories for us?”

“Uh, not really. We don’t know each other that well”, he said, shrugging awkwardly.

“Yeah, I guess we don’t really hang out much”, Stiles added. Derek’s head tilted slightly as he detected the lie. “Here”, Stiles amended under his breath, quietly enough that Derek and Laura would catch it, but not Isaac.

“Well, that’s going to change, since Stiles is going to be here _all the time_ ”, Laura said, throwing her arm around his neck. He looked at Derek who shrugged helplessly. “Sit, Isaac, there’s not many customers right now anyway. We were just talking about the time Derek broke his wrist trying to rescue a kitten.”

“Oh my god, Laura, not again”, Derek groaned, leaning back in his seat.

“Dude, it’s an instant classic”, Stiles put in. Derek cast him a betrayed look, and Stiles laughed and threw a napkin at him. Stiles sat back and admired the way Laura flawlessly pulled Isaac into their conversation, altering the story to exclude the supernatural with a practiced ease.

 oOo

Stiles declined their offer to have dinner at the Hale house. He knew he had only been in this reality or whatever for a couple of days, but it felt like forever since he had seen his dad. He followed Derek to his car so he could drive him home.

“What do you mean you haven’t seen _Civil War_ yet?”, Stiles asked him incredulously on the drive back to his house.

“I know! I totally dropped the ball on that one. I’ve just been busy I guess”, Derek replied with a sigh. Then he perked up. “I think Cora has the DVD. What are you doing tomorrow?”

“I don’t know. Nothing I guess”, Stiles answered, thinking. It was Friday, so no lacrosse practice, and his dad usually worked late.

“Well now you are. Come over, it’s pizza night at the house and we can watch it”, Derek informed him, smiling hopefully.

“All right, sounds good.” Stiles smiled back, then realized they were already parked in front of his house and his dad’s cruiser was parked beside the jeep.

“Uh, see you tomorrow then,” Stiles said, but not actually moving to get out. Derek was still watching him with half a smile on his face.

“Tomorrow”, he agreed. After a moment, he chuckled slightly and added “Goodbye, Stiles.”

“Right! Bye! I’ll see you…tomorrow”, he said again, suddenly scrambling to get out of the car. He knew Derek was probably laughing at him as he drove away, but as he turned to face the house, he felt his face break out in the widest grin anyway.

 

oOo

 

Hours later, Stiles stared a the ceiling, lost in thought. Dinner with his dad had been weirdly normal. Yes, that was an oxymoron, but that was the only way Stiles could think to describe the feeling. His dad had asked about school, and Scott, and how his ‘project’ with Cora was going. Stiles had had to think quick on that one, but if his dad had suspected the subterfuge he had decided not to mention it. They ate grilled chicken with veggies (Stiles’ insistence), and then watched reruns of _Friends_ in the living room, laughing at the familiar antics.

The toll Stiles’ involvement in all the supernatural shitstorms over the years had taken on John Stilinski was obvious now that Stiles saw what he was like without that burden. He had fewer lines around his mouth, and he just seemed so much less exhausted.

But the difference in Sheriff Stilinski paled in comparison to the difference in Derek. It was hard for Stiles to wrap his head around him being the same person as the Derek he had spent so much time around. It made his chest ache to think about this Derek having his family ripped away from him, finding himself suddenly alone. Just him and Laura, trying to find their way in New York. And then even she had been taken from him. Laura, who was so full of energy, and whom he had grown to love so much in such a short amount of time. Doing quick math in his head, he knew that neither of her children would have been born before the fire, and then her life had been so changed she probably never even met David. Peter’s oldest would have been just a toddler, and Tyler and Devon would have been so young. Stiles felt tears well up in his eyes and he rolled on his side.

“I think I get it now”, he whispered, not sure if there was anything there to hear him.

 

oOo

 

“Bye Dad! I’m going to Cora’s after school to keep working on that project!”, Stiles called as he rushed out the door the next morning.

“But it’s a Friday…”, was his father’s confused reply, but by then Stiles was out the door.

 oOo

The day passed in a blur of classes and a distinct lack of violent supernatural crises. He’d had to offer a confused Scott vague excuses as to why he couldn’t hang out that day, but promised him a full day of gaming on Saturday.

After school, he drove straight to the preserve.

He had barely gotten out of his jeep before Talia appeared on the porch with a welcoming smile.

“Hello, Stiles! You’ve beaten Cora here”, she said, offering him a motherly hug. “Derek’s around back with the boys. Come on, it’s about time for them to come in anyway.”

She led him around the house toward the green clearing that was their back yard. There, Stiles was greeted with the sight of a wolfed out Devon, Jonas, and Elise facing off Derek, who was crouched and only had his eyes glowing blue. All of their clothes were dirty, where they’d obviously been tussling in them for a while. To the side, Peter stood watching with little Lucy on his hip and Julie by his side, her long blonde hair in a wispy bun. Talia led him over toward them, and Stiles was pleased to notice that he only felt a nervous wariness in Peter’s presence, not the wave of panic from a few days ago.

In the yard, the tiny wolves growled adorably and Derek let out a menacing snarl in return. Suddenly, the kids charged Derek, moving too fast for Stiles to keep up with. Derek met them halfway, and soon enough had Jonas and Devon each swept up under an arm, although Devon was really too big to be picked up like that. Elise, though, had evaded Derek’s grasp. He spun this way and that, trying to get a lock on her, but before he knew it she had scrambled up his back and locked her tiny arm around his neck.

“I got you, Uncle Derek!” she cried, even though she was just hanging ineffectually from his neck. And then Derek did something Stiles had never seen before.

He threw his head back and laughed. And it was the most beautiful thing Stiles had ever seen.

He felt himself gaping, knew his heart rate had just skipped up a couple of notches, but how had he never experienced this? Had he never seen Derek just truly laugh? He knew from now on he would be trying to make that sound happen as often as possible.

Belatedly, he realized his reaction hadn’t gone unnoticed. Julie was smiling at him kindly when he glanced over, and laid a gentle hand on his arm. Peter was smirking with an eyebrow raised. Talia shot him an unreadable glance, then stepped forward toward the wrestling group.

“Alright, kids, that’s enough. Time to get cleaned up, and Uncle Derek has a guest.”

The kids let out a collective groan, and Derek chuckled and set the boys back on their feet.

“Hi, Stiles!”, Devon said as he bounced up to him. “Are you going to stay for dinner again? It’s pizza night!”

“Sure am”, Stiles agreed.

“Awesome!” At his mother’s look, Devon sighed and continued into the house. Stiles smiled after him, then turned back around to find that Derek had approached him.

“Hi”, he said eloquently. Derek grinned.

“Hi”, he replied, teasing. Peter coughed. Derek shot him a dirty look and turned back to Stiles.

“C’mon”, he said, nodding his head toward the house. Stiles followed as he went in through the kitchen, then up the stairs.

He couldn’t have said what he was expecting, but this both was and wasn’t it. Derek’s room seemed so…adult. Which made sense, since Derek was an adult, but still. Stiles suddenly felt so young.

The room was decorated in mostly grey and black. His bed was neatly made, and he had a black couch pushed against the far wall. Across from the bed was a sleek, black and silver entertainment center, with a large TV mounted on the wall. When Stiles walked in, Derek was already crouched in front of the entertainment center. He hit a button, and some cool, kind of jazzy sounding music filled the air. Derek started shuffling through the DVDs on the shelf.

“Who is this?”, Stiles asked, still standing near the door.

“Hmm?”, Derek responded with a glance over his shoulder.

“The music.”

“Oh, Panic at the Disco.” Stiles stared at him in confusion.

“Panic at the Disco? Quintessential emo band? Wow, welcome to 2008.”

“I think it’s pretty much just Brendan Urie now. And his new stuff is really good! Tell me his voice doesn't sound amazing”, Derek said, standing now and facing Stiles with a challenging smile. Stiles pretended to have to think about it, and Derek grabbed an empty beer bottle from the corner of the table, holding it like a microphone.

“ _…death of a bachelor, oh-oh-oh, letting the water fall…_ ”

Stiles let out an incredulous laugh as Derek dramatically lip-synced the words. Encouraged, Derek smiled widely and grabbed Stiles’ hand and spun him in suddenly, wrapping an arm around his waist and dipping him with his super-strength as he continued.

“ _…death of a bachelor, oh-oh-oh, seems so fitting for…_ ”

Then he spun Stiles out again suddenly and sent him flying onto the bed, still laughing.

“ _…happy ever after, ooh, how could I ask for more?…_ ”

Derek threw his head back as he pretended to hit a note that Stiles’ hadn’t known was possible for a man, then dropped onto the bed beside Stiles laughing with him.

“ _…a lifetime of laughter at the expense of the death of a bachelor…_ ”

The song continued in the background as Stiles and Derek grinned at each other stupidly.

“I guess it’s alright”, Stiles said finally with an exaggerated roll of his eyes. Derek growled and whacked him with a pillow.

 

oOo

 

Pizza night at the Hale house was a pretty casual affair. Danica wasn’t there, David was apparently working a late shift at the station, and Tyler was staying the night at a friend’s house. Laura had given him her usual, enthusiastic greeting when she got home, but at the table she was mostly occupied supervising Elise and Lucy. Stiles sat between Derek and Cora, commiserating about Chemistry class and arguing over comic book characters.

“So, Stiles, and big plans for spring break?” Luke asked from his seat beside Talia.

Oh, yeah. Spring break. With everything going on, it had actually completely slipped his mind. If Luke hadn’t mentioned it, Stiles probably would have shown up to an empty school on Monday morning.

“No, not really”, he answered “What about you guys?”

“We always go camping”, Cora answered, “just for a few days.”

“Yes, we do have a tradition of camping in the mountains. It allows all of us to be a little more free, especially the little ones. We’re going Monday through Wednesday, Stiles, we’d be glad to have you if you’d like to join us.” Talia smiled at him warmly. Stiles was unprepared for the invitation, and furrowed his brow in thought.

“Ooh, yes, Stiles, you have to come!”, Laura squealed, “That would be so much fun!”

“Um, sure, I guess”, Stiles said, making up his mind. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Wonderful! Make sure you clear it with your father. We’ll leave early Monday morning”, Talia said.

Stiles smiled and nodded. He didn’t foresee it being a problem with his dad, he was eighteen after all. As he turned back toward his plate, he saw Derek watching him out of the corner of his eye. He turned and Derek smiled, eyes warm. Stiles returned the smile, and Derek went back to eating his pizza.

 oOo

“Prepare to have your mind blown” Stiles said as he settled back against the headboard of Derek’s bed. Derek fiddled with the DVD player.

“Oh, I’m prepared.” he replied, deadpan.

He got the film started and went to join Stiles on the bed. Even though they were on top of the covers, Stiles still felt like this was a little…intimate. He was on Derek’s bed. But it was the only thing that made sense, since the TV was right across from it. They fell silent as the opening scene got started.

Stiles tried not to fidget too much, hyper-aware of Derek’s body heat where they weren’t quite touching. He felt stiff and unrelaxed, but he though he was doing okay until about half an hour into the movie when Derek sighed.

“You’re being really distracting.”

“What? I’m not doing anything”, Stiles protested. Derek sighed again, and scooted closer to Stiles, sliding an arm around his shoulder. Stiles froze in shock.

“Just relax, I can feel how tense you are.”

Stiles sat frozen for several minutes, not even aware of the film, just of the fact that he was being halfway cuddled by six feet of sexy werewolf. He kind of thought this was the opposite of getting him to relax. But then again…at least now he wasn’t worried about accidentally touching Derek or sitting too close. Actually, as the minutes passed, Stiles felt himself relaxing into Derek’s side. Soon, he was able to let himself relax and really get enveloped in the movie.

 oOo

“Stiles? Stiles, wake up.”

“Hmmm?”, Stiles muttered. He was warm and comfortable, and didn’t appreciate being woken up. He cracked his eyes open, taking in where he was. He suddenly realized his warm pillow was Derek’s shoulder, and that Derek’s arm was still around him, fingers carded in his hair. He inhaled sharply and lifted his head.

“Sorry! Sorry, didn’t mean to fall asleep”, he muttered groggily, swiping at his face to make sure he hadn’t done any embarrassing drooling.

“It’s okay”, Derek said, giving him a half-smile. “You should probably get home, though, your dad will get worried. Are you awake enough to drive?” Derek peered in his face as if he could read the answer there.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll be fine”, Stiles replied. He regrettably rolled away from Derek’s warmth and looked around for his shoes.

“Do you have plans tomorrow?” Derek asked.

“Yeah, I told my best friend, Scott, we could hang tomorrow”, Stiles told him apologetically.

“Okay. And I work at the station all day Sunday. I guess I’ll see you Monday morning then.”

Shoes acquired, Stiles headed down the stairs, followed by Derek. On the porch, Derek stepped just a little too close, and Stiles held his breath. But Derek just raised a hand to his face, like he had in his living room.

“Good night”, Derek whispered. And then he was back in the house. Stiles got in his jeep and leaned his head against the wheel. _What the hell am I doing?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again!
> 
> Find me on [tumblr.](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/fanlocked-writergirl) in the meantime! I just made one just for my writing!


	4. Carpool Karaoke and Camping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's super late, guys! Been a crazy couple of weeks.
> 
> I'm having way too much fun with this, hopefully it's not too rambly or slow!
> 
> Un-beta'd, mistakes are my own.

Telling his dad about his spring break plans didn’t go quite as smoothly as he assumed. Not because John had any problem with his son going, but because he immediately looked at Stiles with a knowing smirk when Stiles brought it up on Saturday morning.

“Going with the Hales, huh? You’ve been spending a lot of time over there recently.”

“Um, yeah I guess,” Stiles replied, unsure what his dad was getting at.

“Going on a family trip? Things must be getting pretty serious.”

“…huh?,” was all Stiles could come up with in return. John rolled his eyes.

“Son, you’re eighteen years old, I don’t care if you date. Just make sure you’re staying safe.”

“Oh,” Stiles said. “Oh! Wait, Dad, you’ve got it wrong. It’s not what you think!” John gave him a sardonic look.  
  
“Stiles, I wasn’t born yesterday,” he said, shaking his head as he turned around to grab his coffee.

“No, really! It’s not like that, he’s just a friend.” At that, John’s head whipped back around.

“He?,” John asked incredulously. Stiles realized his mistake. Of course his dad hadn’t meant Derek, why would he? Stiles had been telling him he was working on a project with Cora.

“Errr…”, Stiles frantically tried to think of a way out of this. John just looked completely bewildered.

“I didn’t even know you liked boys”, he said thoughtfully. Shit. This Stiles wasn’t even out? Shit shit shit. What if this Stiles wasn’t even bi? No, if they were the same person, he probably was. Stiles just hoped he hadn’t made too big a mess for the guy when (if) he came back. If this wasn’t all in his head. Ugh.

“Um, yeah? I mean, I like girls, Lydia, duh, but I kind of like guys too?”

John just looked thoughtful for another second before he walked forward and gathered Stiles up in a somewhat rare hug.

“Son, you ought to know I don’t care who you love, as long as they love you and treat you right. If you’re happy, I’m happy,” he said, squeezing him tight.

“Thanks, Dad”, Stiles replied, feeling a strange sense of deja vu. His own talk with his dad had been pretty similar to this, actually. After a moment, John pulled back with a pat on Stiles’ shoulder. Then a thought seemed to occur to him and he frowned.

“So if it’s not Cora, who have you been spending all your time with?”, he asked. “The next one’s in middle school, right? Isn’t he a little young for you? Not that I’m judging, of course, although there had better not be anything illegal going on.”

“What? No, Dad, I barely know Tyler!” Stile protested. His dad just continued to give him a questioning stare, and Stiles sighed. “I’ve been kind of…hanging out with Derek. Like I said, he’s just a friend, though!”

“But you don’t want him to be.” It was more of a statement than a question.

“I…maybe?”, Stiles replied sheepishly. John gave him another pat on the shoulder and turned back to his forgotten coffee.

“I work with Derek sometimes, through the fire department. He’s a good man. A little old for you”, he said with a pointed look over his shoulder at Stiles, “but a good man.”

“Yeah,” Stiles nodded, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Just be careful, son.”

“Don’t worry, Dad, I took health freshmen year. I’m a regular boy scout.”

“Good to know, but that’s not what I meant. Be careful with your heart, that’s even more important.” John clarified. Stiles rolled his eyes.

“Cheesy, Dad.” John just shrugged.

“But true.”

  
oOo

  
Apparently when Talia Hale said early, she meant _early_. Early for Stiles on a day when there wasn’t school was nine, but here he was at six in the morning, dragging himself out of the jeep with his duffel bag to meet the family, some of whom were already out in the lawn. The morning air was chilly, and he was glad he had brought sweaters. March was still pretty cool in Northern California, especially since they were headed up to the mountains.

He could immediately tell that Laura and Talia were morning people, because of course they were. It seemed like Cora and Derek were more on his wavelength, though, and he was proven correct when he went to stand by them and none of them felt the need to say a word. They pretty much grunted vague greetings, Cora bumped him with her shoulder, and Derek reached his arm around Stiles in a sort-of-hug/sort-of-warming-gesture. Derek left his arm there, Cora laid her head on his shoulder on the other side, and together they stood and watched the hubbub of Talia and Laura, with the help of Tyler, trying to pack the cars and figure out what went where.

Even though they weren’t talking, Stiles was glad to be back in Derek’s space. As promised, he had spent most of Saturday playing video games with Scott and not talking about anything supernatural. Scott had thought it was a little weird that Stiles was going camping with the Hales, but since he had more information this time, Stiles evaded the questions with more grace than he had with his father. Then, Sunday was spent being lazy with his dad, which was really great.

But he had missed the Hales, had missed Derek even though they texted several times in those two days. It was nice, now, to just stand there and share warmth. In a way, it felt like home.

Alas, they’re peace couldn’t last. Satisfied that all the coolers, tents, and various supplies were accounted for and packed, Laura turned back toward the house and spotted Stiles. She grinned and practically skipped over to pull him out of Derek and Cora’s grasp, and into her usual back-cracking hug.

“Stiles! Yay, I’m so glad you’re coming with us!”, she cried. He tried to scrounge up some kind of smile for her, but felt himself failing miserably. Mornings, oy vey. Noting his lack of enthusiasm, Laura’s smile turned amused, and she ruffled his hair.

“Don’t worry, sleepyhead, we’ll have you covered soon.”

At that moment another car pulled into the drive, and Danica, Luke, and David got out bearing loads of blessed coffee. Cora groaned in relief, and pulled Stiles toward the heavenly smell. Soon enough, Stiles had his hands wrapped around a warm cup and was trying not to burn his tongue in his haste to get the liquid energy into his body. After his first sip he moaned obscenely.

He looked Danica right in the eye, and very seriously told her, “I have never loved a woman as much as I love you right now.”

This got a laugh from her, and she put her arm around his shoulders as they headed toward the porch.

“I’m very flattered, but I have to say you _might_ be a little young for me.” She said with a wink.

“Besides, it probably wouldn’t be other _women_ you’d have to worry about”, Cora snarked. David elbowed her, but he was smirking too. Stiles felt himself redden, but purposely did not turn around to see if Derek had a reaction to the comment.

Stiles had missed Talia going into the house, but she came out now carrying little Lucy and followed by Peter, Julie, and a train of children in various states of wakefulness. Stiles lost himself a little again, as the Hale family went for coffee, packed last minute items, or made sure their kids had gone to the bathroom one last time. Eventually, Talia called everyone back to some kind of order so they could figure out who was riding with who.

In the end they took three cars. Talia and Luke loaded Tyler, Devon, and Jonas into their four-door pickup; Danica and Lucy rode with Peter and Julie in their Range Rover. That left Stiles in Laura and David’s Tahoe, in the back seat with Derek. Cora sat in the middle seat with Willow and Elise, since the very back was really too small for three adults, and Willow’s and Elise’s booster seats were safer in the middle.

“Now, no funny business in the back,” Laura warned as they got settled in for the four hour drive ahead of them. Stiles felt his face redden again, but Derek just grinned and stretched his arm across the back of the seat.

Before long, they were on the road. The little ones had conked out immediately, Laura and David were involved in a quiet conversation in the front, and Cora was watching the scenery roll by, apparently lost in thought. In the back, Derek had left his arm stretched across the seat, and used his other hand to hold a book in which he seemed totally invested. Stiles had dug out his phone and was attempting to beat his own high score at 2048.

After a while, Derek began to absently use his hand that was stretched across the seat to gently stroke at the hair at the nape of Stiles’ neck. Stiles wasn’t even sure if he was aware he was doing it; when he’d glanced over, Derek had still seemed fully enraptured by his book. Stiles didn’t mind, in fact it felt nice. Really nice.

Soon, Derek graduated to scratching lightly over the back of Stiles neck, into his hairline. Stiles put his phone down and tilted his head forward to give Derek better access. Was it weird that this was kind of turning him on? Because it totally was. But Derek still hadn’t even looked at him, just kept drawing his nails torturously over sensitive skin.

Suddenly, instead of blunt fingertips, Stiles felt the tips of sharp claws rake gently over his neck up into his hairline, and it nearly sent him crawling over the seat. He had really had no idea that his neck was quite so closely linked with his dick. His eyes fell shut and his mouth fell open as Derek traced teasing patterns over his neck. He had to restrain himself from making a sound as the claws dragged a little forward, right behind his ear. Okay, there was no way Derek didn’t know what he was doing. Stiles gripped the seat hard, trying to refrain from adjusting his hardening dick. He really hoped the whole car couldn’t smell his arousal right now, although he kind of doubted Cora or Laura would have let it go this far without comment if they could.

He felt Derek’s hand trace farther down his spine and opened his eyes, and this time he was met with a familiar, intense green gaze. God, that was hot. Stiles bit his lip, and didn’t miss the way Derek’s eyes were drawn to the movement and stayed there.

Suddenly their moment was interrupted by Cora groaning, “Oh, no” just as Laura shouted “YES”, and turned up the music.

“Come on, Laura, seriously?”, Cora whined. Yanked back to reality, Stiles tried to follow the conversation. It took him a second, but soon he recognized the opening chords of one of the most overplayed songs of the past few years.

“Hey! Driver picks the music and what does the passenger do?”

“Shuts his pie hole!”, Elise supplied, sounding very proud of herself. Stiles threw his head back and laughed. Derek gave his neck one last squeeze and let go. Then he leaned forward to chime in.

“Taylor Swift, Laura? Really?”

“Yeah, so shut up and sing along! I know you know it!” Laura said, turning it up even more. Then she raised her voice to sing along.

“ _Oh my god, look at that face. You look like my next mistake_ ”

 _“LOVE’S A GAME, WANNA PLAAAAY?_ ” Stiles joined in at the top of his lungs. At Cora and Derek’s betrayed looks, he just laughed and added in dramatic hand gestures. Laura cheered at him in the rearview mirror. By the chorus, the whole car was singing except Derek and Cora. It was really more shouting than singing, and they kept fudging over the words, but it was the most fun Stiles’d had in a long time.

 _“SO IT’S GONNA BE FOREVER, OR IT’S GONNA GO DOWN IN FLAMES_ ”, Stiles sing-shouted dramatically at Derek, who was laughing by now, “ _YOU CAN TELL ME WHEN IT’S OVER, OOO, IF THE HIGH WAS WORTH THE PAIN!_ ”

Then, to Stiles neverending surprise, Derek actually joined in.

 _“GOT A LONG LIST OF EX-LOVERS, THEY’LL TELL YOU I’M INSANE_ ”

“TAKE IT CORA!” Laura shouted.

 _“But I’ve got a blank space baby…and I’ll write your name_ ”, Cora finished, her smile belying her attempt at a put-upon expression. They finished the song that way, Stiles making Willow and Elise giggle with his dramatics. By the end Stiles throat felt scratchy, but his heart felt full.

 oOo

Some time later, after their first pit stop, Stiles’ early morning started to catch up with him. He felt himself dozing off, but every time he did he would jerk awake when his head tilted at an odd angle.

Then he felt his seatbelt unbuckle, and strong arms pulled him the short distance across the seat. Derek arranged them so that his arm was around Stiles, and Stiles’ head rested on Derek’s shoulder.

“What about seatbelt?” Stiles mumbled incoherently, already half-asleep.

“Laura won’t crash, and if she did, I’ve got you”, Derek murmured in his ear, arm tightening around Stiles. Stiles smiled slightly and let himself drift off, safe and comfortable in Derek’s arms.

oOo

  
When he woke up some time later, it was to the sound of little girls giggling. He cracked his eyes open, and realized he’d moved in his sleep. Derek was now stretched out halfway across the seat, fast asleep at an angle that didn’t look comfortable, even for a werewolf. Stiles was laying tucked half behind him in the seat with his head resting on Derek’s chest. He opened his eyes a little more and found the source of the giggle. Willow and Elise were turned around over the seat looking at them, while Laura and Cora were both there taking pictures with their cell phones.

“Aw, you woke him up!”, Laura complained.

“Sorry, mama,” Elise giggled.

Stiles sat up too quickly and got a bit of a head rush.

“Wha’s happen?” he asked eloquently.

“Well, you guys are adorable”, Laura informed him, “and we’re at our last stop. After this is one more hour up into the mountains, so if you’ve thought of anything you might need, now’s the time. Also, last chance for a real bathroom for a couple of days.”

“Probably want to take advantage of that”, Derek put in with a groan as he sat up. He twisted his neck this way and that, and Stiles’ envied him his healing ability. If he’d slept like that, he’d have a crick in his neck for days.Stiles climbed out to let Derek out of the car, and he shot him a soft smile before jogging to catch up with Cora.

What was his life? A week ago, Derek Hale had been the alpha of his pack, someone he tolerated but barely knew beyond barking orders and saving each other. Sure, he’d always known the guy was hot like burning, but he’d always seen him as kind of a joke otherwise. A walking stereotype, Hot But Surly Asshole Alpha. Now here he was, laughing with him and admiring his ass as he walked away. In a way, he thought of them as two completely different people, but…were they really?

True, his Derek was stand-offish when it came to the pack, but they’d never really made any kind of effort to include him either. Watching the easy way Derek interacted with his family, it was easy to tell that family, pack, acceptance were never things he’d had to work for or think about. He was short and sometimes rude with the pack, and _definitely_ didn’t trust as much as he should. But, now that he saw the world Derek had had ripped away from him, how could Stiles blame him?

Abruptly, Stiles realized he’d been staring too long. He hoped it had gone unnoticed, but of course when he glanced over Laura was watching him with an expression that was both amused and thoughtful. He cleared his throat and tried to act like nonchalant.

“So, what are the plans once we get there?” he asked, closing the door on the Tahoe and walking with her toward the small convenience store.

“Well, the area we camp in is close to a lake with a stream feeding into it, so we could go swimming this afternoon. Then, of course, we’ll have a campfire, roast marshmallows, the usual.”

“Sweet, I love roasting marshmallows!” Stiles may have fist pumped a little. “So, what, no wolfy traditions?”

“Yeah, tomorrow we’ll take the kids out, let them get out some energy. Maybe in the evening we’ll have them track the humans, that’s always fun.”

“AKA track the Stiles?” Laura looked at him strangely.

“Nooo”, she said slowly, “We’ll have you guys split up, give them a little bit of a challenge.”

At Stiles’ blank look her brow furrowed even more.

“Stiles, you do know that both Julie and David are human, right?”

“Oh!” Stiles was shocked. He’d had no idea. “No, did not know that. So, then, are all the kids werewolves?”

“Yes, the lycanthrope gene is dominant. There was a chance one of them might not have been, but a small one.” Laura explained, though she still looked concerned.

“Mama! Can I get gummy bears? Please please please?”, Elise shouted running up to them.

Stiles took that as an opening to head to the restrooms, but he felt Laura’s concerned glance as he walked away.

  
oOo

Camping with wolves was the way to go. When they finally reached the campground, everything was set up so quickly and efficiently it made Stiles’ head spin. In no time, he had his sleeping bag and duffel bag all set up in the tent he would be sharing for the next two nights with Derek, Cora, and Danica. Everything set up, the general consensus was to eat a quick lunch of sandwiches and go for a swim in the lake.

When they got to the water, Derek (of course) immediately pulled his shirt off and Stiles (of course) couldn’t completely control his reaction to the sight. He’d seen Derek shirtless, of course, but _damn_ that never got old. He thought he did okay though, getting the expected smirks from Peter and Laura and eyerolls from Cora and Tyler, but then he noticed Willow standing knee-deep in the water, hands on her hips, staring at him.

“Are you Uncle Derek’s mate?” she demanded loudly.

“Willow!”, Jonas groaned, putting his face in his hands in a move hilariously adult for a nine-year-old.

“What? They smell like mates”, the little girl defended herself.

“Ugh, gross”, Devon pitched in.

“I- we- I don’t- what?” Stiles looked around wildly. Derek looked as shocked and embarrassed as he was, the kids were all looking on with a mixture of curiosity and disgust, and the adults were mostly just looking amused. To his relief, it was Julie that stepped in to his rescue.

“Now, Willow, Stiles is a very good friend of Uncle Derek’s,” she cut in in that peaceful way of hers. “I’m sure if they decide to be mates they’ll tell us when they want to. Now, have you put on sunscreen?”

The scene dispersed as parents distracted their children and Cora and Tyler decided to race to a designated point in the lake. Derek shot him a small smile that was half commiserating and half apologetic before being dragged into the water by Elise, who was demanding a piggy-back ride. Soon, the only people left on the shore were Laura and Danica, who were sunbathing, and Talia, who was finishing repacking the bag of beach supplies. Stiles approached her sheepishly, but she just smiled at him

“I hope Willow didn’t make you too uncomfortable, Stiles. You know kids, no concept of socially acceptable questions.”

“No, no, it’s fine” Stiles said with a nervous chuckle.

“Good. We really are glad you could come with us. I think most of my children have taken quite a liking to you”, she replied with a smile.

“Thanks, I’m glad too. I mean, it’s mutual.” Dammit, why was he so awkward? He almost walked away then, but he just had to know.

“Talia, what did she mean, that we smell like mates?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry too much about that. It’s nothing mystical, like you _have_ to be together or anything,” she replied with a laugh. “It’s just that children are more sensitive to more subtle smells and changes in the body, like attraction. I suppose in Willow’s frame of reference, the only other time she’s smelled mutual attraction like that is in the case of the couples within the pack.”

Stiles thought he might choke on his spit. Derek’s _mom_ had just verbally called him out on his attraction to her son. Noticing his expression (and probably how all the blood had left his face) Talia laughed and put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“No need to look like that, Stiles. I don’t know how the pack dynamic works in your time, but we know hiding things like this from one another is pointless, so we don’t fuss about it. I’m sure you’ve noticed Derek hasn’t bothered to be subtle in his attraction to you.”

Well, that was true, Stiles supposed. And it wasn’t as if subtlety was one of his great strengths in life. He knew that pretty much everyone could see there was something going on, but it still felt a bit odd to just talk about it openly.

“Um, okay, yeah. Thanks for, uh…thanks”, he said.

“Of course. Feel free to ask any questions you may have.” Talia replied, warmly.

With a nod, Stiles decided to head into the water himself. As he pulled his shirt off and waded into the lake, he was gratified to see that Derek was _definitely_ checking him out. At least he wasn’t the only one making a fool of himself.

  
oOo

  
Stiles sat in a fold-out chair, soaking in the warmth of the campfire and half listening to David, Luke, and Derek beside him talking about the Giants chances this season. They had all roasted their own hot dogs for dinner, and now had moved on to marshmallows. On his other side, Peter helped the kids safely roast their marshmallows and showed them how to make s’mores out of them.

Stiles was absently watching his own marshmallow turn golden brown when he felt tiny hands on his knee. Little Lucy had been wandering from person to person (under the watchful eye of her mother, of course), and now stood by Stiles’ chair, making grabby hands so he’d pick her up.

“Well, hi there”, he said, as he wrapped an arm around her little torso and lifted her onto his lap. In the process, he accidentally brought his cooked marshmallow closer, and Lucy immediately reached for it.

“Oh, that’s all you wanted, huh?” Stiles chuckled, pulling it out of her reach. She frowned at that, and her lower lip started to tremble.

“Well, hang on a minute, it’s still hot”, he said, bringing the marshmallow closer to his face so he could blow on it. After a second, he tested it with his finger and deemed it cool enough for small mouths. He pulled off enough for a two-year-old bite and offered it to her, and she immediately pounced, getting as much of it on her hand and face as actually in her mouth. She reached for more and Stiles laughed.

“Okay, why don’t we share it?” he offered, breaking off another piece for her and taking a small bite himself. Within two minutes, the large marshmallow was gone.

“It’s all gone, see?” He told her when she reached for more. He half expected her to go find someone else at that point, but instead she seemed content to snuggle into his chest and stare at the fire. That made him smile a little, and he brought his hand up to stroke her auburn hair. Before long, she was dozing off in his lap, half her sticky face on his shirt.

After a while, Stiles looked around to see Lucy wasn’t the only one feeling the long day. Peter was gathering up a sleepy Willow in his arms, and Julie followed him leading Jonas and Elise to tuck them into their sleeping bags. The adults still had a few quiet conversations going, but they were mostly quiet, half-asleep and listening to the crackling fire. As he looked around, he noticed Laura and Derek were watching him from across the fire. When he met her eyes, Laura smiled at him warmly and got up to come take her daughter to bed. Derek offered him a smile too, but it was somehow more intense, more thoughtful. Stiles swallowed as they held eye contact over Laura’s shoulder. He dragged his gaze back when Laura patted him on the cheek.

“You’re good with her”, she whispered with a smile. She looked over her shoulder at Derek, then back at Stiles and winked. “Good night, Stiles.”

oOo

The tent Stiles shared with Danica, Cora, and Derek was long and narrow, so it made the most sense for them to sleep two and two with their feet facing the center. The Hales came prepared, bringing extra blankets and pillows for every tent and foam mats for the sleeping bags to lay on.

But the mountains in Nor Cal get cold at night, so an hour after they had crawled in their sleeping bags, Stiles was still not asleep and was trying to contain his shivering. He heard movement beside him as Derek unzipped his sleeping bag and sat up. He reached over Stiles to dig through the bags, and came up with a heavy wool blanket. He unfolded it and spread it out so that it covered both of their sleeping bags. Then, rather that just zip himself back in, he pulled his sleeping bag right next to stiles and left it open enough that he could throw and arm over him. Stiles glanced over his shoulder at him.

“You were never going to sleep like that. This way, we can share some heat. Now go to sleep.” Derek whispered quietly. He didn’t need to tell Stiles twice.

 


	5. Familiar Territory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, there's a lot going on in this chapter!
> 
> Warning here for some violence. No spoilers, but if you're sensitive to violence, might want to skip ahead. I don't think it's that bad, like too graphic or anything, but better safe than sorry.
> 
> I'm expecting some mixed emotions on this chapter, but don't worry, I have a plan! 
> 
> As always, comments are welcome. Thanks for the support so far, guys, putting your writing out there is a really vulnerable feeling!
> 
> Un-beta'd, any mistakes are my own.

After the last few days, Stiles thought he should probably be getting used to waking up wrapped up with Derek, but it still felt novel. Although there was still a sleeping bag between them, Derek had pulled Stiles right up against him, Stiles’ head resting on Derek’s arm as they faced each other. The leg pressed against his morning wood through layers of fabric was definitely new, though. He thought that was probably what had woken him up, since Derek was still asleep and he couldn’t hear anyone else moving around either.

He shifted a little, trying to put some distance between them before he got too excited, but that just seemed to irritate Derek in his sleep. He frowned a little and pulled Stiles even closer, wedging his leg tighter between Stiles’ through the sleeping bag. Oh, that was _good_. But also really, really bad.

As he tried again to surreptitiously scoot away, Derek’s eyes blinked open lazily. As he came to, he shifted a little again. The movement shot pleasure right through Stiles, and he gasped. Derek froze, arm tightening marginally. They stared at each other, neither sure where to go from here.

Almost experimentally, Derek shifted his leg a little again, on purpose this time. Stiles felt his hips hitch a little into the movement, and he may or may not have embarrassed himself with a breathy little moan. Derek brought his forehead to rest against Stiles, still watching his face. His gaze dropped to Stiles mouth, and he brought his hand up to trace it lightly with his thumb. Stiles felt like he couldn’t breathe.

Then, all of a sudden, Derek’s eyebrows twitched into a tiny frown. He met Stiles’ eyes again for a moment, then his face closed off and he rolled away suddenly. Before Stiles could ask ‘ _What the fuck?’_ , Derek was gone.

What the fuck?

  
oOo

  
Stiles spent most of the morning reading by the lake. The adult werewolves had taken the little ones out to practice wolf-type things, so that left him with Julie and David, who had been left in charge of Lucy since she was too young to really keep up with the others. So David and Lucy splashed around in the shallows, Julie napped in the sun, and Stiles read.

Derek had been kind of weird all morning. He was pretty obviously avoiding him, as much as one can avoid someone they’re on an isolated camping trip with. He had made sure there were people between them at breakfast, and had barely met his eyes. Derek was quiet, seemingly lost in his own thoughts, and guarded. His behavior hadn’t gone unnoticed by Laura, who’d shot both Derek and Stiles questioning glances, or by Cora, who’d kicked Derek when he was short with her. Talia, too, looked at Derek with a concerned frown, but no one commented. It was kind of giving Stiles deja vu, dealing with Derek like this. It was just like his Derek. Which made sense. But still, weird.

Stiles turned the scene from that morning over and over in his head, but couldn’t think of a single reason for Derek’s sudden distance. It’s not like Stiles had thrown himself at Derek; if anything it was a bit of the opposite. Nothing had _actually_ happened, and even if it had, would it be that disgusting to Derek? Talia had definitely insinuated that the attraction was mutual, but maybe she was wrong.

“I wouldn’t worry about it”, Julie said suddenly, apropos of nothing.

“Huh?” Stiles looked at her. Laura had said she wasn’t a werewolf, but he figured she would have mentioned if she was a psychic or mind-reader or something.

“Derek. I can practically see you overthinking things”, Julie clarified, voice as gentle and soft as always. “Derek doesn’t trust easily, and he rarely dates. Bad experiences in the past, as I’m sure you know something about.”

Stiles just continued to look at her. She was usually so soft-spoken, but she obviously noticed everything. At his lack of response, she just offered him a somewhat sad smile.

“It’s obvious to all of us he is developing feelings for you. He’s probably just afraid. Our Derek never has dealt well with fear. Or any negative emotions, for that matter.” She finished with a sigh, looking out over the lake. She stood and drifted a few steps closer to the water, silent for several long moments. Stiles noticed that in her one-piece, she was beginning to show her pregnancy just a little. She turned to face Stiles one last time, and caught him looking at her belly. She raised a hand to the small bump, a small sadness lingering in her eyes.

“Just be patient with him, okay Stiles?”

Stiles nodded, a little unnerved. He wasn’t entirely sure they were only talking about this Derek anymore. But Julie only smiled softly one more time, then walked out into the water, toward where David played with Lucy.

  
oOo

  
Later that afternoon, after the werewolves had returned and they had all eaten a late lunch/early dinner, Talia asked if the group was ready for the children to practice their tracking. It was explained to Stiles that this involved each of the humans going a different direction, getting a 20 minute head-start before the kids were allowed to come after them. Laura and Peter would go with Elise and Willow, respectively, since they were still so young. Devon and Jonas, though, begged to be allowed to go alone until she agreed.

Stiles put on his hiking boots and jeans in preparation for the cold. At the last moment, he tucked the small hunting knife he had picked up before the trip into his boot. He knew this Stiles had never had to deal with the supernatural shit he had been through, but he just felt so vulnerable without some kind of protection. All set, he joined the others and, on Talia’s cue, took off into the woods.

Having joined the pack for training sessions, he knew a few tricks for evading werewolves. It wasn’t foolproof, of course, but he should at least be able to confuse them a bit. Once he was a fair bit away from the camp, he chose a direction, touching everything he could before doubling back and going a different way, this time careful not to disturb much. He walked, trying to keep some sense of direction in his mind, even though he knew the wolves would find him and bring him back either way. Eventually, he came to a stream. Perfect, water threw off the scent. Ignoring the cold, Stiles waded in. It was about knee-deep at the center, so Stiles stayed there and walked for a bit in the water. He supposed all these tactics weren’t really necessary, but he was used to trying to provide a real challenge. Besides, he hadn’t practiced in a while, he didn’t want to get lazy or rusty. Never know when he’d have to run from a super-baddie again.

Lost in these thoughts, he was taken completely by surprise when there were abruptly strong arms wrapping around him from behind. So much for not getting rusty.

“Gotcha”, Derek whispered against Stiles’ ear, making him shiver. He turned to face him, but Derek didn’t let go. Stiles ended up pressed against the werewolf, hands resting on his solid chest in the fading light.

“So you did”, Stiles said softly. He was hyper-aware of how close they were, how Derek’s face had that same look that it had that morning. As if he couldn’t understand how Stiles was real. Stiles swallowed, afraid this moment would break the way it had before. Instead, Derek leaned in, running his nose up Stiles’ neck as he inhaled. At the feel of Derek’s stubble against his neck, Stiles shivered again and raised his arms to rest them on Derek’s shoulders. After a moment of breathing him in, Derek pulled back a little, coming face to face so their noses just brushed. He stayed there for a moment, just breathing in each other’s space, before he groaned as if at war with himself and then his lips were on Stiles, just the faintest brush.

Stiles couldn’t contain his gasp, and Derek took the opportunity to deepen the kiss. His arms tightened around Stiles, pulling him in so they were completely chest to chest. He opened his mouth, and Stiles followed, trying to pull him even closer as their tongues met. Stiles slid a hand up into Derek’s hair, and Derek pulled his lower lip into his mouth and bit gently. This dragged a moan out of Stiles.

Derek’s hand slid lower, pulling Stiles’ hips flush against his as he moved to mouth at Stiles’ neck, trailing kisses along his jaw and sucking at that sensitive spot just below his ear. Stiles could only gasp and hold on for dear life as the feeling shot straight to his cock. He tilted his head further to the side, eyes closed and mouth open. Derek growled as Stiles’ fist reflexively tightened in Derek’s hair, tugging lightly.

Suddenly, Derek lifted his head and looked off into the woods, listening. He groaned quietly, and dropped his head for a moment. With one more chaste kiss and a heated look, he released Stiles, backed away, and ran off in the opposite direction. Stiles stared off after him, shocked. Only a second later, though, Jonas came barreling out of the trees and threw himself on Stiles. It was only with the splash that Stiles suddenly remembered he was standing knee-deep in water. Huh.

“I got you, Stiles”, Jonas cried triumphantly. Then he wrinkled his nose. “How come you smell so much like Uncle Derek?”

Stiles shook himself and decided avoiding the question was his best option at the moment.

“Yeah, good job, buddy!” he said, offering a high five. It was a good think kids were so easy to fool; Jonas seemed to not even notice the evasion and slapped Stiles hand with _way_ too much strength for his age. Stiles winced and shook out his stinging hand. Right, don’t offer werewolf children high fives. Noted.

“All right, so which way back to camp?”, he asked the kid. Whatever sense of direction he’d had, he’d lost in Derek’s surprise attack. Jonas looked around, frowning. Well that was promising.

“This way,” he decided, pointing direction that seemed random to Stiles. But he didn’t have a super-sniffer, so what did he know. So he followed the nine-year-old into the woods. What could go wrong?

oOo

Stiles and Jonas didn’t talk much as they walked, Jonas just led the way and Stiles followed, lost in his own thoughts. He wondered what would happen when he got back to camp. Would it be like this morning, with Derek avoiding him? Would they pretend nothing had happened? Would they talk about it? Did Stiles _want_ to talk about it?

He wasn’t sure.

This was all so surreal, he wasn’t even sure what to think about it. There was no denying that he was attracted to Derek, but that had always been the case. Derek was hot, it was just a fact. But in his reality, there had never even been the slightest chance of anything happening, so Stiles only thought about how hot Derek was in his wildest Stiles-time fantasies.

Now, though…now there was apparently something happening. But was that fair to his Derek? It was almost like he was using his body without his permission or something. It was like, whatever he was feeling for this Derek was so intertwined with his feelings for the other Derek in his mind that he couldn’t parse it out. How could they be the same person, yet so different? If he started to fall for this Derek, would that mean he was falling for his Derek too? He couldn’t make it make sense in his mind.

After a while, it became pretty obvious they weren’t headed the right direction at all. Woods are pretty difficult to tell apart, but Stiles was fairly certain he had never been in this particular area. Plus, Stiles was pretty sure they had been walking mostly uphill, which shouldn’t be right. Jonas, too, kept looking around quizzically, but kept walking.

“Hey, buddy, are you sure we’re going the right way?” Stiles asked finally.

“Um, I…I’m not sure”, was the hesitant answer.

“Well, what if we called for somebody? They could hear us, right?”

“No, I can do this, I just have to…”, Jonas trailed off, walking in a small circle, focusing on his senses. Stiles was torn. He wanted to let the kid figure it out, but he also didn’t want to freeze all night in his half-soggy jeans and boots. It was almost completely dark by now, and the cold was really starting to set in.

“I smell something, but i don’t-“, Jonas was interrupted by a hiss. _That_ definitely hadn't come from a werewolf.

They both spun to face the sound, and found themselves facing off with a large, angry-looking bobcat. Jonas whimpered, and Stiles felt his heart stop. The cat hissed again, and began advancing on them slowly, head lowered menacingly. Stiles grabbed Jonas arm and pulled him close.

“Jonas,” Stiles said calmly and quietly, leading the kid to back away slowly, “I need you to climb the tree behind us, and then yell as loud as you can for your family.” He knew that wouldn’t be enough, the bobcat could easily climb the tree. But if he could get Jonas to relative safety, he would figure out how to protect him.

“I can’t,” Jonas cried, voice trembling, “the branches are too high!”

“Shh, shh, It’s okay, buddy. It’ll be okay, I’ll help you.”, Stiles soothed, still keeping an eye on the bobcat prowling toward them. “When I say go, we’re going to run to the tree and I’ll help you up, okay?”

“What about you?”, Jonas’ queried, obviously on the verge of tears.

“Me?”, Stiles scoffed as convincingly as he could, “I’ve faced worse than this guy.” He hoped Jonas could hear the truth in that statement, in spite of the fear. He took a deep breath.

“Ready? GO!”, Stiles cried. Together they ran the last few feet to the nearest tree. Stiles heard an angry yowl behind him as he used all his human strength to launch Jonas up into the tree. He spun around just in time to see the bobcat launch itself at him. He leapt to the right in an attempt to dodge, but he felt sharp pain rip down his side. He vaguely heard Jonas scream and then start yelling for his dad at the top of his lungs.

Stiles saw the cat back up, crouching low, ready to pounce again. As he scrambled backwards, he felt a loose branch under his fingers. He got both hands around it and swung right as the bobcat came at him again, his fresh injury jarring at the strength of the impact. The cat yelped, but didn’t move as far as Stiles had hoped. Before it could recover from the first blow, Stiles swung the branch again and connected with the animal’s head. Out of all the creatures he’d faced and researched, he knew a blow to the head was usually effective. This time it was thrown off, shaking itself as it circled in front of him.

As soon as the bobcat was off of him, Stiles frantically reached for the knife in his boot. His shaking hands had difficulty with moving aside the wet jeans. He shook his head, trying to stay focused as dark spots encroached on his vision.

“C’mon”, he whispered to himself, aware of Jonas still frantically yelling and crying above him. Finally successful, he wielded the knife in his hand. He knew it wasn’t big enough to seriously injure the bobcat unless he used it just right. He warred briefly with himself over what he had to do, but he didn’t have the time left to be creative. He wouldn’t be conscious long enough.

That moment, he saw the cat’s attention shift to where Jonas was perched in the tree, still yelling.

_Oh hell no_.

Several things happened at once, then. He heard frantic cries of “Jonas?” and “Stiles!” behind him as the bobcat crouched, preparing to launch itself up the tree. But Stiles was already moving. With a loud cry, he used the last of his strength to throw himself at the bobcat, locking an arm around it’s neck and sinking the knife in where he knew it would do the most damage. Right into the cat’s eye socket, angled back directly into it’s brain. He held on tightly as the thing yowled and tried to throw him off, before collapsing. It twitched a few more times, then went still.

Stiles knew there was mayhem around him now, but he was only really aware of hand’s tugging at his shoulders. He groaned and rolled off the bobcat’s body, to find himself half on Derek’s lap with Laura’s scared face peering over his shoulder.

Then Derek was shouting and he was being lifted off the ground as Derek ran with him. That was the last thing he was aware of before the darkness took over.

oOo

When Stiles came to, he was in a sterile, white bed in an unfamiliar hospital room, apparently alone. He instinctively tried to sit up, but immediately regretted that decision. He fell back with a groan, pressing a hand to his lower left side. He felt bandages, and tried to lift his head enough to get a look.

“Oh, good, our local hero’s awake!”

Stiles looked up to find a nurse walking in with a clipboard, smiling brightly at him. She came over and began checking his vitals.

“Where am I?”, he asked, looking around again. He had spent enough time in and around Beacon Hills hospital that he knew this wasn’t it.

“Sonora Regional Medical Center, I’m Amelia”, she answered, pressing a cold stethoscope to his chest. “You’ve been out almost 24 hours, you lost a lot of blood. Everyone’s talking about the guy who saved a kid from a bobcat.” After listening to his heartbeat for a moment, she began to unwrap the bandages, and Stiles looked down to see four long wounds from just below his ribcage to his hipbone, held together by stark black stitches. Out of all the things he’d faced, this is what nearly got him? How anticlimactic.

“Looks like this’ll heal just fine. You’ll have quite some scars to show off, though”, Amelia said, probing gently at the wounds. “You feeling up to visitors? You’ve got quite a crew that’s been waiting for you.” Stiles nodded.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“All righty, then, I’ll let them in three at a time, how’s that? If you start feeling too tired, you just hit that button and we’ll boot them out for you.” She agreed, indicating the nurse call button beside his bed. He nodded again, and she left to send in the first group.

The first three visitors included Derek, of course, but Stiles was a bit surprised to see he was accompanied by Julie and Stiles’ dad.

“Dad? What are you doing here?”

“My only son is in the hospital after being attacked by a wild animal, where else would I be?” John clearly wanted to gather his son in a hug, but unable to do so, he took Stiles’ hand and pressed it to his mouth. He seemed on the verge of tears.

“Hey, Dad, I’m okay, I promise”, Stiles soothed, squeezing back.

“I know, I’m sorry. I just don’t like seeing you like this.”

They sat like that for a few moments. After a while, Julie came to stand by his father’s shoulder.

“If I may? I promise I won’t take up too much of your time”, she asked, addressing John. He nodded and let go of Stiles, scooting down to the foot of the bed and leaving a hand on Stiles’ leg. Julie took Stiles’ newly freed hand in both of hers. She seemed to take a moment to collect herself, and when she met Stiles’ eyes, hers had tears in them. Aw man, why was everyone crying? He wasn’t _dying_.

“I just wanted to say thank you so much, Stiles. You saved my son’s life, and that’s a debt I could never repay”, she said simply, voice quavering with emotion.

“Um, you’re welcome”, Stiles replied, at a loss. “You don’t owe me anything, though, I just did what anyone would do.”

Julie didn’t say anything else, just kissed him on the forehead with a grateful smile, nodded to his dad, and left the room. Huh. He wasn’t used to getting thanked for saving people.

Speaking of which, throughout these reunions, Derek had been hanging behind. He was pacing and occasionally running a hand through his hair, looking angry and restless. He looked so much like his Derek that Stiles felt his heart clench. Now he recognized that the frustration was because Derek felt helpless. He held out his once-again-empty hand.

“Derek.” was all he said, and Derek was there in an instant, taking the proffered hand and cupping his face with the other. He searched Stiles’ face as if reassuring himself that Stiles was really there, that he was safe.

“I’m okay”, Stiles whispered, reassuring the agitated werewolf. Derek let out a heavy breath and leaned his forehead against Stiles’, closing his eyes. “I’m okay”, Stiles said again, closing his eyes too. They stayed like that for a few long moments, until John cleared his throat, reminding them they weren’t alone. Derek flushed slightly, and pulled back, but only to one of the chairs by Stiles’ bed. He never let go of his hand, which did not go unnoticed by John.

“So, if you’re feeling up to it, mind filling us in on exactly what the hell happened out there?”, John asked, his own hand still resting on Stiles’ ankle. “Talia said you killed it with a knife? Where did you get a knife?”

oOo

After recounting the story as best he could without including anything supernatural (such as why they were so far out in the woods to begin with), John left to see if he could find some food for them. When Amelia stepped back in, Stiles agreed that he felt up to letting in a couple more people that evening. He was feeling a little tired, but not in pain, since he suspected Derek was taking most of it. Derek clearly wasn’t going anywhere anyway, although he still remained mostly quiet, holding Stiles’ hand and stroking with his thumb.

They were soon joined by Talia and Laura, who was bearing a truly ridiculous burst of flowers attached to not one, but three balloons. Two of them said _Get Well Soon_ , but the third one said _Thank You_. She set the arrangement on the table by his bed, and was clearly fighting the urge to throw herself at him in one of her customary hugs. Stiles’ was glad for her restraint, he didn’t know if he’d survive that right now.

“Oh my god, Stiles, we were so worried! I’m so glad you’re all right”, Laura cried, dropping on to the edge of the bed.

“Yeah,” Stiles agreed awkwardly, “I’m gonna have some wicked scars, though.”

“That was really quite brave, what you did, Stiles”, Talia spoke up from the chair next to Derek’s. “We’re all more grateful than you’ll ever know.” Stiles chuckled a little at that.

“Well, I guess when you’ve faced down a kanima, a regular old bobcat’s not that big a deal”, he shrugged.

Talia’s eyebrows shot up, Derek’s hand tightened over Stiles’, and Laura frowned.

“What’s a kanima?” Laura asked.

“It’s like a werewolf that went wrong. Kind of a were-lizard with paralyzing venom that kills for kicks”, Stiles summarized. Now Laura also looked shocked, and Derek just looked pissed.

“You took down one of those?” Laura asked incredulously.

“Well, not single-handedly, but I helped”, Stiles replied sheepishly. He hadn’t meant to make quite so big a thing of this. Talia hummed, watching him thoughfully. Then she stood.

“Well, Stiles, it seems there’s more to you than meets the eye. I just wanted to make sure you knew how grateful we were. If we didn’t fully consider you family before, we most certainly do now. Come, Laura, he’s exhausted, and his father will be back soon.”

Laura ruffled his hair and blew him a kiss before following her mother out the door. Derek stayed right where he was, kind of glaring at Stiles. Stiles groaned.

“What is it, sourwolf?”

Derek just huffed and looked away for a second. Then he looked down at where their hands were joined and seemed to gather himself.

“I don’t like you putting yourself in danger. I’m glad Jonas is safe, but I wish you didn’t have to be the hero”, he explained, as if each word physically pained him. Stiles sighed.

“I’m not _that_ fragile, you know. I can hold my own. I’ve had lessons from the best”, he finished, offering him a smile. He knew that Derek would know he meant, well, Derek.

This didn’t seem to have quite the desired effect. Derek sort of smiled back, but it was really more of a grimace. He let go of Stiles hand and stood.

“You’re dad is back. I should leave you alone.”

“What? Derek, you don’t have to-“, but he was already gone.

True to Derek’s prediction, John walked in then bearing trays of food.

“Probably not the best thing we’ve ever eaten, but it’ll keep us going”, John said, laying the trays down on the rolling table. “What’d you do to chase Derek off? I didn’t think he would leave your side for anything.”

“I don’t know”, Stile replied, frowning at the door. “I don’t know.”


	6. What She Realized

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gah, you guys.  
> Finals week so...yeah, a few days late. But better late than never!  
> I can't say enough how much I appreciate all the support! I'm so glad you guys are enjoying it!!!
> 
> This chapter has kind of a lot going on, so hopefully it's not too choppy. As always, un-beta'd, so all mistakes are my own. 
> 
> An author can never get enough encouragement that her writing is not garbage, so Comment! Subscribe! Drop me a line on [Tumblr.](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/fanlocked-writergirl)
> 
> But most of all, enjoy =)

The ride home wasn’t quite as bad as Stiles had thought it would be. He sat across the back seat of his jeep, which his dad had driven there, leaning against Derek who was surreptitiously stealing his pain when it got too bad. Still, it was a three hour drive from Sonora to Beacon Hills, so it wasn’t exactly fun.

 They had kept him in the hospital one more night and the next morning for observation and to allow the stitches to set a little more before he went back to Beacon Hills. Most of the family had left the day before, but Derek had stayed behind along with, to his surprise, Cora. Stiles somewhat suspected she had just seen an opportunity to escape Laura’s road trip music and taken it.

 Derek had still been kind of weird and cagey since that first night at the hospital, but they hadn’t really had a moment alone to discuss it. In front of his dad was not a place he really wanted to have potential relationship conversations. Although, it’s not like his dad had no idea something was happening, especially by the wary looks he kept throwing in the rearview mirror at the werewolf curled around his son. But this John Stiliski had no idea about werewolves and their magical pain-sucky powers, so Stiles really didn’t have an explanation for him. He just avoided his gaze, and they rode in relatively peaceful silence, the three passengers dozing off intermittently.

 When they pulled up to the Hale house later in the afternoon, there seemed to be a whirlwind of activity. There were tables set up in the front lawn covered in plastic table cloths, and Julie and Laura were loading them down with dishes of food from the house. A grill had been rolled out from somewhere, and David was apparently teaching Tyler the best way to cook burgers and hot dogs while the younger kids played a rowdy game of frisbee on the other side of the yard. An obviously hand painted sign hung from the porch that read _Thank You Stiles!_

Stiles leaned over Derek to gape at the chaos, and Derek tightened his arm and smiled into his hair. He was even more surprised when he realized Scott and Isaac were standing awkwardly on one side of the porch. His dad grinned at him in the rearview mirror.

“Well, son, seems you’re getting a hero’s welcome,” he said.

Stiles could do nothing but stare in shock. Honestly this seemed like a bit much; Stiles had faced worse than this and barely gotten a grunted thanks. He wasn’t sure whether to bask in the appreciation or be embarrassed by it, so he ended up somewhere in between.

When the jeep rolled to a stop next to his dad’s cruiser, the kids abandoned their game and ran over with a cheer. Derek opened the door to the excited throng, but didn’t move to get out yet. 

“Stiles! Stiles! Did the doctors really have to stitch you back together?”

“Stiles! Are you gonna have _scars_?”

“Jonas says you stabbed that lion right in the head! Is that true?”

Stiles couldn’t even tell who was shouting which question, they came at him so fast. He was kind of relieved when a voice boomed from the direction of the porch.

“Kids! Give him some room, we don’t want to hurt him more!” Luke called. 

Stiles looked over to see that he and Talia were pulling one of the large, comfy lounge chairs from the family room onto the porch. The kids quietened immediately and backed up a few steps so Derek could extricate himself from Stiles and lean back down to help him out. 

The wounds in his side made walking a painful exercise, but with Derek’s steadying arm he made his way across the yard, followed by an excitedly whispering horde of children. He smiled and waved at Scott and Isaac, who had been joined on their end of the porch by Laura, Cora, and Danica. With some effort he made it up the steps and stood facing Talia, Luke and, now, Peter.

“Welcome home, Stiles,” Talia said warmly, clasping his hand.

“Uh, thanks,” he replied awkwardly, “You really didn’t have to do all this.” He gestured to the party set-up in the yard.

“Nonsense, it was the least we could do,” Luke put a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Now, we figured you’d probably be more comfortable in this chair, so have a seat and we’ll bring you some food.” He helped Stiles get settled in the lounge chair, reclining so that his stitches weren’t being tugged. 

“Luke, could you help me bring out the lemonade? Derek, why don’t you get Stiles a plate, I’m sure he’s hungry.” Talia instructed kindly, leading Luke back into the house. Once they were gone, there was an awkward moment where Stiles wasn’t sure whether or not he was supposed to acknowledge Peter’s presence. He never had gotten his footing around this Peter, and it seemed like the werewolf knew it. Eventually, though, Peter cleared his throat. Stiles looked up to meet intense blue eyes.

“Stiles, I haven’t yet had the opportunity to express my gratitude. If I’d lost him…I don’t know what I would have done. This is a debt I can never repay; thank you.”

Stiles swallowed. He appreciated the sentiment, but all he could see in his head was Peter, crazy from losing his family. Peter, killing his own niece. Peter, biting his best friend. Peter, pulling a lazarus and coming back from the dead. He shook his head.

“Um, that’s okay. I’m glad he’s fine,” he got out. The painful memories had affected him, though, and Peter seemed to pick up on it. Rather than amusing him, like Stiles’ nervousness around him usually did, this time it seemed to sadden him. For a second it looked like he might say more, but then he seemed to think better of it. He looked up suddenly, and Stiles followed his gaze to see that Scott, Isaac, Cora, and Laura were making their way toward him from the other end of the porch. Laura was looking at Peter with an unreadable expression, but the other three were focused on Stiles.

“Hey!” Stiles said as they came closer. “What are you guys doing here?”

“Cora invited us,” Scott replied.

“Hope that’s okay,” Isaac put in, a little nervous.

Stiles looked at Cora questioningly, but she just shrugged.

“What, it was _your_ party.”

“Yeah, dude, you’re like a local hero now! They wrote about you in the paper and even mentioned the story on the news,” Scott explained, grinning widely. What? That was ridiculous.

“Stiles! Can we see your scars now?” Devon called. Stiles looked down to find the kids leaning over each other on the porch steps behind their apparent leader. 

“Yeah, Stiles, we wanna see,” Laura joined in teasingly.

“Please Stiles? _Please?”_ The kids all started chiming in and Stiles chuckled.

“All right, all right,” he said with a put-upon sigh. The kids all cheered as he reached for the hem of his shirt. Once the shirt was out of the way, he lifted the bandages aside so they could see the four long claw marks. They really hadn’t gone _that_ deep, no muscle damage or anything, but they did look pretty impressive. He heard Isaac whistle through his teeth and the kids all ooh’d and aah’d. 

“I _told_ you that had to stitch him together,” Stiles heard Elise whisper haughtily.

“Can I touch them?” Willow asked bravely.

“Absolutely not.” Stiles was saved from answering by Derek coming up the steps with two plates of food. “But you _can_ go see Uncle David and get some hot dogs.”

This successfully distracted most of the kids as they raced each other to go get the first hot dog. Jonas, though, stayed behind, looking at his shoes.

“Hey, you okay buddy?” Stiles asked, trying to catch his eyes. To his surprise, Jonas suddenly vaulted himself up the stairs and threw his arms around Stiles’ neck, barely avoiding jostling his healing side. Derek growled in protest, but Jonas didn’t let go. He just held on for a minute, and Stiles lifted a hand to rub his back tentatively.

“Thank you for saving me, Stiles. That was really scary,” Jonas whispered in his ear, and Stiles hugged him a little tighter.

“No problem at all, dude. Any time a silly cat bothers you, you let me know,” Stiles whispered back, getting a giggle out of the boy. Then, as suddenly as he’d come, Jonas was gone, running across the yard to join his sister and cousins.

Derek nudged him with his elbow to get his attention, then handed him his plate. Then he pulled up one of the chairs scattered on the large porch and sat down beside him. After the kids, the adults gathered around the table to get their food, Danica brought Stiles a lemonade, and soon Stiles was surrounded by a laughing group of humans and werewolves. Laura was, once again, showcasing her talent for making everyone feel included by seamlessly pulling Isaac and Scott into conversation. Tyler had even seemed to make his peace with Stiles’ presence and was sitting in their little circle, actually joining in the conversation. Stiles saw his dad in the yard talking with David and Luke, probably hashing out an interesting case. To the side, Peter was roughhousing with the kids, while Julie and Danica showed Lucy how to blow bubbles. Stiles had never felt less alone in his life.

 

oOo

 

There were still three days left of spring break, and Stiles was under strict orders to take it easy until his doctor’s appointment on Monday when he would find out if he could go back to school. Friday was spent mostly chilling on the couch, watching TV with his dad, and Laura, Danica, and Derek dropping by in the evening with leftovers from the coffee shop. After dinner, Laura and Danica had to leave, but Derek didn’t need much convincing to stay behind and hang out with Stiles.

“Door open, son,” John called as Stiles and Derek headed for his room.

“ _Daaad,”_ Stiles groaned, mortified.

“ _Stiiiles,”_ his dad mocked cruelly. Stiles huffed a dramatic sigh and rolled his eyes, but noticed Derek smirking at the exchange.

Asshole.

 

oOo

 

On Saturday, Scott came over bearing slurpees and video games, which was good because Stiles already felt like he was going to lose his mind from boredom. They played for a while, and Stiles was finally getting used to how _normal_ it felt. Eventually, his dad popped his head in and asked if they wanted to order pizza, to which the answer was a resounding yes. Once he was gone, Scott paused the game and sat back, clearly something on his mind.  

“What’s up, man?” Stiles asked, gnawing absently on his straw. Scott cleared his throat, seemingly unsure where to begin.

“You know, when you first started hanging out with the Hales, I kind of thought you had something going on with Cora,” he said. Stiles stared at him for a second, then yanked the straw out of his mouth.

“Uh, no, that’s not- I mean there’s definitely not-,” he stuttered.

“No, yeah, I got that,” Scott gave him a pointed look. Stiles coughed.

“What’s your point, Scotty?”

“Dude are you…I mean, are you and Derek…?” Scott seemed unsure how to finish the question, and Stiles just continued to stare at him. That seemed answer enough for Scott. _Way to go, outing this poor unsuspecting Stiles again,_ Stiles thought to himself.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” Scott sounded a little hurt now. Shit. “Did you think I’d have a problem with it? You’re like my brother, man, and I’m not, like, homophobic or anything.”

“No! No, it’s not anything like that! I just didn’t say anything because…well, there’s really not much to tell.”

“Dude, I have eyes,” Scott said sardonically, “You guys, like, couldn’t stay away from each other. You really think I don’t know something’s going on?”

“Okay, yeah, _something_ ’s going on…we just haven’t talked about it or anything,” Stiles sighed. “I don’t know, man, the mixed signals! One minute he’s kissing me in the woods, then next he’s avoiding me, now he’s just been, like, hovering. I don’t know what he wants!”

“Hang on, he kissed you?!?” Scott exclaimed. Stiles glared. “Right, not the point right now. Well…do you know what you want?”

“It’s…complicated,” Stiles replied, looking away. If only he could tell Scott just how complicated it was.

“What’s complicated? I mean, do you want to date him? Or just, like…mess around? Is it because he’s a guy? Because you know nobody that cares about you is gonna care if you’re with a dude.”

“No, I know that. There’s just…other stuff. Other factors.” Like alternate realities, or the possibility this is all in his head. But this Scott wouldn’t get that. 

Scott nodded slowly, sensing he wasn’t going to get much more out of Stiles at the moment.

“Okay, well, I think you should talk to him. But whatever happens, I’ve got your back, bro. Don’t forget that.” 

“Thanks. I won’t,” Stiles smiled at his loyal friend. Scott smiled back. The moment was nice, but now that they’d gotten here, neither seemed to know how to get out.

“So…should we hug or something?” Stiles asked when the moment had gotten awkward.

“Uh, do you need a hug?” Scott sounded like he hoped the answer was no. Stiles just laughed and restarted the game.

“Hey, no fair, I wasn’t ready!”

 

oOo

 

The next two weeks passed in a blur. Stiles was given the go ahead to go back to school, and exactly 14 days after the attack, the stitches were taken out. He was glad of that, as they’d started itching really badly, but the area definitely still felt tender and sore.

In that time, life continued as per the new normal. After school most days, he would go to _Hunting Grounds_ and hang out with Laura, Danica, and Isaac, plus Derek on the days he didn’t work. He often ate dinner with the Hales, and a couple of times Derek came over and had dinner with Stiles and his dad. It kind of felt like he suddenly had this whole new family.

But Derek was as irritatingly confusing as ever.

He was so obviously avoiding spending too much alone time with Stiles, which would seem like he was trying to show he wasn’t interested. _Would_ seem that way, except when they _were_ alone, it was like Derek couldn’t resist being as close to Stiles as possible, often wrapping himself around him or scenting him. Even around other people, Derek was rarely far from Stiles’ side, and was usually initiating contact by resting his arm around him or sitting close enough that their knees touched. 

But there was, sadly, zero kissing. And zero talking about…things. Well, they talked, but not about them. The potential for them. Whatever ‘them’ was. Stiles got frustrated just thinking about it, but he’d known Derek long enough to know that asking too many questions would probably just push him away. Sure, some of the rules were different when dealing with Derek here, but he was pretty sure some things were just _Derek._ Ugh. He wondered if that stupid fairy/spirit/nymph thing had foreseen _this_ particular problem.

 

oOo

 

That Friday afternoon, Stiles and Scott went to _Hunting Grounds_ to hang out there until Stiles went with Laura to the Hales for pizza night. Scott and Laura had found that they got along famously, although Stiles kind of doubted there were many people Laura didn’t get along famously with. Scott, Stiles, and Danica hung out near the counter while Laura and Isaac helped customers and made drinks, joining in the conversation when there was a lull. Suddenly, Danica turned to him with a playful grin.

“So, Stiles, what are you getting Derek for his birthday?”

“Uh…” Derek had a birthday? Like, a scheduled one? As long as Stiles had known him, he’d just…gotten older at some point. 

“I don’t know yet,” he hedged. Danica shook her head at him. Laura was watching him with an unreadable expression, too perceptive for her own good.

“Well, you’d better get a move on. We’re having a party for him and Devon two weeks from today. Come to think of it, you’d better get Devon something too, or he might be offended.”

“Oh, they have the same birthday?” he asked. Danica seemed unperturbed by the question, but Laura’s frown grew more pronounced as she turned back toward the espresso machine.

“No, it’s about a week apart, but we always celebrate with one party.” Danica clarified. Stiles nodded.

“Okaay…any ideas for me?” he asked hopefully. Danica’s eyes gleamed mischievously and Laura shot her a skeptical look.

“Family-party appropriate suggestions only, Danica”, she warned.

“Oh, you’re no fun,” Danica complained as Scott and Isaac snorted, trying to hold back laughter and Stiles blushed. He leaned toward her and winked, though.

“You can give me the fun ideas later,” he whispered brazenly, knowing full well that Laura, at least, could hear him. She only laughed as Danica nodded sagely.

The conversation was successfully derailed after that, but the rest of the afternoon Stiles kept catching Laura watching him with a sad frown.

 

oOo

 

Pizza night, this time, was followed by movie night with various members of the family. Predictably, Stiles ended up essentially curled into Derek’s side, in spite of the fact that there was plenty of room for them on one of the long couches in the family room. After a while, Stiles excused himself to go to the restroom. 

On his way back toward the family room from the guest bathroom, Stiles passed through the foyer and noticed the door was open to the screen. Curious, he changed direction, listening as best he could with human ears to make sure he wasn’t interrupting anything. To his surprise, it was Laura sitting on one of the rocking chairs on the porch, looking pensively off into the night. She must have heard him coming, but she didn’t look up until he spoke.

“Hey,” he said quietly, settling into the chair next to hers. “Is everything all right?”

“Yeah,” she said, offering him a weak smile. Then she sighed. “No, not really. I can’t stop…overthinking.”

“Um, anything you want to talk about?” he asked, unsure of himself. He didn’t know if she’d want to confide in him, of all people, but he though he should offer. She was silent for a long moment, staring into the forest again.

“Can I ask you something?” she asked, without looking at him.

“Uh, sure,” he replied, hoping he was wrong about where this might be going.

“You didn’t know Derek’s and Devon’s birthdays were soon. You didn’t know Julie and David were human.”

Neither of those were questions, so Stiles just swallowed and looked down, dread building in his stomach. His silence seemed to encourage her. She continued, still not looking at him.

“You say in your reality you’re pack, but when I met you, you smelled like Derek. Not like any of the rest of us, just him,” she paused and swallowed hard, “And you didn’t _know_ us. I mean, maybe you kind of knew Cora and you were scared of Peter, but the rest of us? It’s like you had never seen us before.”

Now she stopped and watched him, seemingly giving him a chance to talk. A chance to explain, to tell her she was wrong. He didn’t know what to say. The moment dragged on, and Laura’s face broke.

“We’re not there are we?” she whispered. “None of us.”

Stiles just stared back helplessly, not knowing what to do. He wasn’t supposed to tell them any specifics, but the evidence was damning. His silence was answer enough, and Laura’s eyes filled with tears.

“We’re all gone? Then he’s alone? How?”, she stopped herself, wiping her eyes. “Wait, no, I know you can’t answer that. But how is he alone? Derek’s not- he can’t-,” she cut off with a hand over her mouth, barely containing a sob.

Stiles tried to swallow around the lump in his throat. It wasn’t his fault Derek’s family had died, he knew this, but in that moment it felt like it was. It felt like he should apologize or explain, but he didn’t know how. He ran a hand through his hair and raised his eyes to the sky, as if the stars could give him some clarity. After a few moments, Laura took a deep breath and looked at him again.

“I don’t really know how you got here, or if or when you’re going back. Uncle Peter thinks we might just be projections in your mind from the spirit,” she spoke, voice strained. Of course Peter would come to that conclusion on his own. “If you do go back, can you do something for me?”

“Anything,” Stiles promised roughly. She smiled sadly and took his hand.

“Take care of him,” she pleaded, fresh tears welling. “I don’t- I can’t imagine what he must be like if-,” she struggled for a moment. “Derek’s not meant to be alone, none of us are. I don’t know what your relationship is like back there, but I _know_ him. He needs someone to take care of him, to tell him he’s okay. No matter what, will you watch out for him?”

Stiles met her eyes, difficult as that was. “I will,” he told her sincerely. “I promise.”

She squeezed his hand one last time, then stood and wiped her eyes. She offered him a wavering smile as a good-bye, then she took off across the yard toward the smaller house that Stiles now knew had been built to accommodate her growing family. He stared off in the direction she had gone long after she had disappeared from view.

That’s where Derek found him a few minutes later.

“Hey, there you are,” he smiled, sitting in Laura’s vacated seat. He caught sight of Stiles’ face and frowned. “Is everything okay?” 

“Yeah,” Stiles took a deep breath. “Yeah, it will be.”

 

oOo

 

_Hey, can you come over?_  

Stiles paced his room while waiting for Derek to reply.

_On my way_

The response came quicker than he’d anticipated. He sat down on his bed and ran a hand through his hair, knowing he was making it stick up at odd angles. He was glad Derek hadn’t asked why Stiles needed him, he didn’t feel like explaining that he was _kind of_ freaking out here. He almost jumped out of his skin when he heard a tap on his window. He whipped around to find Derek on the roof, grinning at him.

“Dude, you scared me! I know you know how to use the door,” Stiles complained, opening the latch and letting him in.

“Your dad’s not home, and I could tell you were up here, so…,” Derek offered by way of explanation, apparently unrepentant. Stiles sighed and rolled his eyes, but it was for show and they both knew it.

“So, what’s up?”

Stiles pointed wordlessly to his desk where a stack of envelopes lay. Derek looked at him quizzically, then went and started rifling through the papers. Stiles chewed his nail and gave him a minute. Finally, Derek looked back up at him with a carefully blank face.

“They came yesterday, I didn’t see them until this morning.” 

College acceptance letters. Four of them.

In Stiles’ reality, he’d applied a couple of different places, his first choices being Stanford or Berkeley. For him, it was priority to stay close to home, close to his pack. All of the pack had applied to mostly in-state schools, with the exception of Lydia who was dead set on MIT. This Stiles clearly hadn’t had those concerns.

Four Schools. Stiles’ top choice, Stanford was one of those. Hopefully in his own world he’d also gotten in, but that wasn’t the point right now. Alongside that big envelope was the envelopes with logos for UCLA, NYU, and Brown. _Brown_. Holy shit. Stiles and Derek stared at each other, both afraid to move. Finally, Derek put the letters down and rested his hand on them, face still unreadable.

“So what are you going to do?” he asked, clearly trying for lightness and missing the mark a little. Stiles buried his face in his hands.

“ _I don’t know,_ ” he moaned, voice muffled in his palms. “I mean, for me it would be all about Stanford, because I wanted to stay close to home, close to the pack. But I’m not pack here-“

“You’re pack,” Derek cut him off, brooking no arguments. Stiles just pursed his lips and glared.

“Okay, while very nice, that’s not the point. Is this Stiles pack? I mean, if I’m suddenly gone tomorrow and he pops back into his life, is he pack?”

Derek looked a little lost then, like he hadn’t thought that far.

“Right. So how can I decide for him to go to Stanford if his top choice was Brown? I mean, _Brown._ But what if I’m still here in the fall? What if I’m here for years? What if I never leave? Then, if I decide he probably wanted to go somewhere else, I might have to go live in New York or Rhode Island. _Rhode Island, Derek!”_ With that final exclamation, Stiles dropped onto his bed and put his head between his knees, groaning dramatically at the idea of Rhode Island. Derek sat beside him and rested a hand on the back of his neck. They were quiet for a moment, contemplating.

“You’re right, I don’t know what’s going to happen if the other Stiles comes back. I think it’s safe to assume that he’s just like you, though, only a little less…experienced”, Derek said thoughtfully.

“Way to make me sound like a slut, man,” Stiles complained from between his knees. Derek huffed a laugh.

“I just mean he doesn’t know as much, not about us. And he’s probably much less badass,” Derek clarified. Stiles sat up and grinned at him.

“Flattery will get you _everywhere.”_

“My point is, whatever you decide, I’m sure he won’t be too upset with the decision.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right. Besides, he’ll probably have bigger things to worry about, like the fact that he has been missing from his body for however long.” They were both quiet for a minute, contemplating that. Moment of silence for missing Stiles. “So…you think I should go with Stanford?” Stiles asked, trying not to sound too hopeful.

“I think you should make that decision yourself. I’m too biased,” Derek grinned at him in a way that set Stiles’ pulse racing.

“Biased, huh? How’s that?”

“I don’t want you too far away,” Derek said simply. They just smiled at each other for a second, then Stiles groaned and threw himself back on the bed.

“Dude, you’re killing me here with the mixed signals!” Stiles cried. Derek leaned down on one elbow beside him and quirked a brow.

“I think I’ve been pretty obvious,” he protested.

“Well, yeah, I mean I know you’re, like, interested, though God knows why cause you’re all-,” he waved a hand at Derek, trying to encompass all of Derek’s hot/older/awesome/ _hot-_ ness in the gesture. Derek just grabbed the hand from midair, with an amused smirk. Stiles continued as if nothing happened. “And I _know_ you know I’m interested, so what’s the hold up?!?”

Derek stared at their joined hands for a second, the humor gone from his expression. He looked thoughful, and Stiles waited for him to respond. Finally, Derek met his eyes somberly.

“You’re not…mine,” he said, seeming unsatisfied with that explanation.

“Um, yeah, that’s the point, I totally could be,” Stiles said exasperatedly.

“No, it’s not-,” Derek sighed, “It’s not that simple. I keep trying to put myself in his shoes; to think like I was him, the other me, and how I would feel if you were with someone else, even if that someone was kind of me…and it would kill me. I know it doesn’t make much sense, but I can’t do that to him. And I can’t do that to you, not when I don’t know how long I would get to keep you.” Oh. That made a strange sort of sense, actually, except-

“But…it’s not like that with us, him and me. He doesn’t want me like that,” Stiles tried to explain. Derek fixed him with a look that was in equal parts amused, incredulous, and pitying.

“Yes, he does.”

“What? You can’t possibly know that,” Stiles argued.

“Yes, I can. We’re essentially the same person right? Well, if we’re biologically indentical, then he’s definitely attracted to you, probably has been from the moment he met you. And if there’s any part of him and me that are the same…,” Derek trailed off, shaking his head with a half-smile. He raised the hand that wasn’t still holding Stiles’, and ran his thumb along Stiles’ cheekbone. “He definitely wants you.” 

Stiles and Derek watched each other for a few long moments as Stiles tried to let that sink in, to accept it. Finally he shook his head.

“I still don’t believe that, but even if it’s true, does it matter right now? Who knows how long I’ll be here; how long are you going to make me wait?” he asked quietly, not wanting to break the moment. He may have tilted his head to look at Derek through his lashes. Maybe. C’mon, as far as seduction techniques, it was the best he had, and anyway it seemed to work. Derek looked conflicted.

“I don’t know,” he said honestly, “I don’t know what I’m doing any more than you do.” He thought for another minute, then he seemed to come to a decision. “How about this, we take it slow.”

“Slow? What does that mean?” Stiles asked, wary. Derek chuckled and leaned their foreheads together.

“It means, let me take you out this week.”

“Out? Like on a date? Like dinner and a movie kind of thing?”

“Exactly like a date,” Derek replied teasingly. Stiles smiled widely.

“I think I could work with that.”


	7. Dates, with wolves and destiny

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE DON'T HATE ME
> 
> *hides*
> 
> Seriously, though, I'm actually pretty happy with this chapter. Have no fear, I have plans for our boys!
> 
> Un-beta'd, any mistakes are my own!

Stiles took a deep breath, staring at himself in the mirror. He was wearing a dark blue button-up that really showed the breadth of his shoulders, dark jeans, and his nicest shoes. He had been standing there staring at himself, turning this way and that, and sighing every few minutes as he went back and forth between thinking he was overdressed and thinking he looked like a kid.

“Dude, relax, it’s gonna be fine,” Scott said without looking up from his textbook. He’d come over earlier to study, and had ended up helping Stiles get ready for his date instead. Stiles scrubbed a hand through his hair, ruining all the work he had put into trying to make it look nice.

“What if it’s super awkward?” he asked, worried. Scott frowned at him.

“Why would it be awkward? You guys hang out all the time.

“Yeah, but this isn’t like that! We aren’t just hanging out, we’re going on a _date_. I don’t know how to go on a date!”

“Well, just…be yourself,” Scott told him. Stiles shot him a glare.

“Yes, thank you Scott for that original and helpful advice. Any more wisdom for me?” Scott rolled his eyes and sat up.

“I just meant stop thinking so hard! You already like him, and you already know he likes you, so just think of it as you guys hanging out. Hopefully with more kissing,” Scott ended with a grin. That put a dreamy look on Stiles’ face.

“Yeah…” he said, smiling at nothing. Scott snorted.

“Still here, bro.” Stiles shook his head to clear it and turned back to the mirror just as John leaned in the open door.

“Looking good, son. What time is Derek picking you up?”

“6:30,” Stiles said, glancing at the clock. He still had a little time.

“Okay, well I’m headed out to my meeting,” He leveled Stiles with a stern look, “I _will_ be back by 11:00, and you’d better be back before then.”

“But, dad-“

“No buts, Stiles. Derek may not have school in the morning, but you do.” 

Stiles sighed, but nodded. His dad smiled wryly.

“Well, have fun, kiddo. Where’s Derek taking you anyhow?”

Stiles eyed him suspiciously. “If I tell you, are you going to send a deputy to check on us?”

“Never crossed my mind,” the sheriff protested unconvincingly.

“Uh-huh. Well, I don’t know anyway. We didn’t really talk about it.”

“All right,” John seemed to accept this answer, pushing away from the door with one final, “Eleven o’clock.”

“Right, dad. See you later.”

John seemed to think about saying more, but instead just nodded at the two boys and backed out of the room.

“You’re dad’s being really cool about this, considering Derek’s, you know…older,” Scott said once they heard John leave the house.

“Yeah…I think it’s because he knows Derek from work, so he knows he’s a good guy. Besides, I’m over eighteen, so it’s not like it’s illegal.” 

Suddenly, Stiles’ phone started vibrating with text alerts in rapid succession. Scott snatched it off the bed beside him and scrolled through the texts while Stiles dug through his sock drawer. He knew it didn’t matter if his socks had a hole in them, but it _felt_ like it did. Then Scott started snickering, and Stiles whipped around to see him tapping on the phone, apparently in reply to the texts before.

“What? Scott, what are you doing? Who is that?” Stiles demanded, throwing himself on the bed and reaching for his phone. Scott kept it away from him long enough to hit send, the fucker. Stiles nabbed the phone and immediately saw that he was apparently mid-conversation in the group chat that Laura had started before the camping trip with Cora and Derek. He scrolled up a little to figure out what was going on, and saw that the first text had been from Cora

_Cora: OMG Derek’s got a DATE with Stiles_

_Cora: I just caught him getting ready_

_Cora: I think he’s nervous_

_Laura: WHAT??? OMG THAT’S ADORABLE_

_Laura: AND ABOUT TIME, DAMN_

_Derek: Shut up_

_Laura: Awww Der-bear!!! I wish I wasn’t stuck at work, I’d give you a pep-talk_

_Derek: Small mercies_

_Cora: I’ll give him a safe-sex talk_

_Derek: You absolutely will not. I’m locking my door_

_Stiles: Scott here, with Stiles’ phone! He’s nervous too, just fyi_

_Laura: AWWWWW_

_Cora: omg._

_Derek: guys, seriously? Scott, give Stiles back his phone_

_Stiles: Stiles here. You nervous, big guy? Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle ;)_

_Laura: HAHAHAHAHAHA_

_Cora: EWWWWW SRSLY I’M GONNA KILL BOTH OF YOU_

_Derek: Considering who the actual adult is, shouldn’t I be saying that to you?_

_Laura: Way to make things creepy, bro._

_Derek: Actually, I was gonna ask if you’re ready, I was about to head out._

_Stiles: Yep, I’ll be waiting!_

_Cora: Okay, can this conversation be over now?_

Taking that as his cue to bow out, Stiles tossed his phone aside and dropped onto his bed with a goofy grin. Scott was watching him with one eyebrow cocked.

“Feeling better?”

“Infinitely.”

 

oOo

 

The date was going…really well. It had started a little awkwardly, both Derek and Stiles still blushing a little from the embarrassment of being called out on their nerves. There was a little confusion as to the protocol; if they were both dudes, who was supposed to open the door for who? But, after only a small amount of shuffling, they came to the unspoken agreement that they were both fully capable of taking care of their own doors.

Derek took him to a little Italian place in town that had the _best_ breadsticks. There was another slightly awkward lull when they sat down, but then Derek asked him how he had done on the Chemistry test that day, and Stiles launched into a dramatic speech about the giant bag of dicks that was Mr. Harris, and Derek was laughing, and it was so _nice._ They ordered chicken parmesan and talked, and it was just natural.

When the conversation hit a natural pause, Stiles plucked up his courage.

“Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Of course, anything,” Derek replied.

“Okay, well, I was wondering about your sense of smell,” Stiles began. Derek tilted his head in question.

“I just…how does it work exactly? Like, when you said that if the other Derek had your biology he was probably attracted to me right away, is it a smell thing?” Derek stiffened a little at the mention of other-Derek, but he seemed to get the question now, and he leaned back and frowned thoughtfully.

“I guess, yes and no. Smell is definitely a part of it, but probably not how your thinking. It’s not like you smell different to me than you do to anyone else in my family. It’s more like…think aboutit this way. One of Laura’s favorite smells in the world is that smell just before it rains. Now, I don’t think that smells bad, but it doesn’t stand out to me the way it does for her. But for me, I love the smell of fresh-cut grass, and she doesn’t.”

“So…I’m your fresh-cut grass?” Stiles asked, trying to follow. Derek laughed and leaned forward, closer to Stiles, though still across the table.

“I guess you could say that, yes.” he smirked. Stiles nodded, unable to stop the grin from forming as he watched Derek.

“Ok, that makes sense. So, then, what about changes? Like how accurate is your sense of smell when people’s moods or…feelings change?” he asked next, taking a bite of his chicken.

“You want to know if my family can smell when you’re turned on,” Derek said bluntly. Stiles choked on his chicken. Derek chuckled and took Stiles’ hand on the table, turning it so he could trace patterns on his palm, then continued to answer anyway.

“Maybe. It depends. We are capable of smelling changes that happen on a biological level, but that doesn’t mean we always do. Especially when there are several people around, it all kind of becomes white noise. You have to really be paying attention to a specific person, or be really close to them, to notice something like that. So my family? Maybe if they’re really paying attention. Me? Always.” Derek leveled Stiles with a predatory grin. Stiles swallowed and felt the tips of his ears redden. Dammit, that smile did _things_ to Stiles, and now he knew for sure that Derek knew it. That, plus the hand thing that was still going on? This was a _public place_. Derek’s smirk intensified, but he leaned back.

“Dessert?” he asked casually, reaching for the smaller menu.

“Huh? Oh, uh, sure,” Stiles replied eloquently, trying to get his thoughts back together. Derek smiled more normally, and put his hand back in Stiles’, just holding it this time.

They ordered Tiramisu, and Stiles was pretty sure he ate more than his fair share. Then Derek grabbed the check and paid for both of them. Stiles thought about protesting, but then decided not to do that to himself. Derek was the one with a job, after all. 

After dinner, Derek and Stiles went to _Hunting Grounds_ since they had some time before their movie started at the theater. Laura kind of went “EEEEEEEE,” bouncing and clapping when they walked in hand in hand. Stiles felt himself flush, but was comforted by the fact that Derek did too. Isaac rolled his eyes and shook his head at her antics, but offered Stiles a supportive grin when their eyes met.

“Shut up and get us some coffee, Laura,” Derek grumped.

“And cookies! Isaac, get them cookies!”

“No, Laura.”

“What? Derek!” she protested.

“We kind of already had dessert,” Stiles put in. She glared at them.

“Oh, fine. How dare you deprive me of the chance to give you cookies on your first date, though.”

“Well, you can give us coffee,” Derek said again. She huffed and flounced away, but did, in fact, provide coffee. Warm drinks in hand, the four of them stood there talking, and Derek never let go of Stiles’ hand. Stiles felt so domestic it was ridiculous.

A few minutes later, Isaac and Laura had to step away to take orders and make drinks for a few new customers. Stiles glanced over and felt a pang in his chest when he saw that it was Lydia and Allison standing at the counter. God, he missed them. He wasn’t used to them ignoring him like he was part of the scenery, and it hurt to think that they weren’t friends here. Noticing his change in mood, Derek followed his line of sight to the counter with a frown.

“Who are they?” he asked Stiles quietly.

“Lydia Martin and Allison Argent,” Stiles replied thoughtlessly. Derek immediately stiffened and whipped his head up to stare at Allison. Stiles rushed to do damage control.

“No, dude, she’s cool! She’s not like- she’s good people,” Stiles protested, squeezing Derek’s hand, which had tightened to a vice grip. He leaned some of his weight into Derek’s side reassuringly, and Derek seemed to relax a little, turning to meet Stiles’ eye with a nod.

“Excuse me?” a soft voice said from beside them. Stiles turned quickly to find Allison herself standing there, smiling at him. _At_ him, not through him. “Stiles, right?” she asked.

“Um, yes?” he replied, ignoring the pang in his chest at the fact that she wasn’t even sure of his _name_.

“I heard about what you did, for that kid. I just wanted to say I thought that was very brave,” she said, smiling in that sweet way she had.

“Oh, uh, thank you,” Stiles said.

“Allison!” Lydia called from by an empty table. She had both of their drinks in hand, her hip cocked, and was raising an eyebrow expectantly. Stiles tried to contain a smile at the familiarity of her pose. Allison turned and nodded at the two of them again, then headed to where Lydia was setting down their drinks. Lydia didn’t acknowledge Stiles verbally, but as she sat down she shot a look at where Stiles and Derek’s hands were joined and then gave Stiles a look that he knew her well enough to know meant ‘ _well done, I’m impressed.’_ He shot her a grin, and her lips quirked in response before she went back to pretending he didn’t exist.

 

oOo

 

Stiles’ couldn’t have told anyone much about the plot of the movie he and Derek went to see. Some action-blockbuster type. All he could think about was the way Derek’s arm had felt draped around him in the cold theater, and how he would turn his head periodically and bury his nose in Stiles hair. Stiles hoped he didn’t think he was being subtle because he so wasn’t.

On the ride home, Stiles studied Derek’s profile in the car and Derek graciously pretended not to notice. Stiles had pretty much started accepting things at face value in the last few weeks, but every now and then he couldn’t stop his brain from going into overdrive.

He had just been on a successful date with _Derek Hale_. Derek, who he’d pretty much not trusted on sight. Who he’d called a murderer and then had to help hide. Who he’d held up in a pool for two hours when the first beta he’d tried to turn went all murder-lizardy. He couldn’t imagine himself and that Derek doing anything so mundane as getting dinner, coffee, and a movie. 

But this wasn’t that Derek. Circumstances hadn’t made this Derek defensive and afraid. He hadn’t been forced into terrible choices, hadn’t ever been completely alone with no one to guide him. He hadn’t ever had to force two teenagers, the only ones who knew what he was, to help him when they literally told him they thought it would be better to let him die. 

He raised his had to trace a thumb along Derek’s cheek, and Derek looked away from the road long enough to shoot him a quick, slightly confused smile. This Derek smiled so easily, so honestly; his Derek really only smiled when he was conning someone, or pretending he knew what he was doing. It didn’t show joy or fondness; it was a defense mechanism, a reflex.

Stiles felt so torn most of the time. On the one hand he loved seeing that smile, and wanted to see it as often as possible. He loved the whole Hale family, and seeing Derek whole and happy with them. Sometimes he hoped he never went back. 

But then, other times, he physically _hurt_ with the need to go back and just hug his Derek and never let him go. Seeing him whole here made it obvious just how broken he was there. It made him remember every cruel, thoughtless thing he’d said and wish he could go back in time and take them back. His Derek needed…everything. Love, acceptance, family…and no one in the pack even knew, and Derek didn’t know how to ask for something that had been so naturally his in the past.

But what about _this?_ This, he didn’t want to lose. He was falling for Derek here, hard and fast. Was this Derek right, did his Derek want him? Could that ever happen? Would it be the same?

Derek pulled to a stop in the street in front of Stiles’ house and shot him a questioning look. Stiles just shook his head and smiled, reaching for his seatbelt.

“I’ll walk you up,” Derek said quietly, unbuckling his own seatbelt and getting out. They walked slowly to Stiles’ front door in companionable silence. When they reached the front door, Stiles looked at Derek hopefully through his lashes.

“We have about half an hour before my dad should be back, want to come in?”

Derek grinned softly. He hooked his fingers in Stiles’ belt loops and drew him in so their noses brushed, and Stiles gasped quietly. They stayed that way, studying each other from _thisclose_ for a long moment. Then Stiles had had enough and closed the distance between them in one quick movement.

This seemed to catch Derek by surprise, and he let out his breath in a rush. Stiles took advantage of the moment and ran his tongue tentatively along Derek’s bottom lip. Derek opened his mouth to let him in as he pushed Stiles back so he was pressed against the door by his hips. Stiles ran his hands down Derek’s chest, feeling his nipples peaked through his shirt. He paused to thumb at one, and, oh, Derek _liked_ that. Derek groaned and pressed up harder against Stiles, pulling his lower lip into his mouth and biting in retaliation. Which, God, so hot. 

When Stiles reached down and began to slide his hands up Derek’s shirt, Derek stopped him by grabbing and pinning both his wrists. Stiles whined in protest.

“Taking it slow, remember?” Derek whispered against his lips. Stiles whined again.

“Do we have to?” 

Derek smiled softly, and leaned back in to brush his lips against Stiles’, once, twice. This time it was gentler, sweet. Then he buried his face in Stiles’ neck and took a deep breath.

“Goodnight, Stiles,” he murmured, then he was gone, walking across the yard toward his car. Stiles stared after him, suddenly cold with the loss of Derek’s warmth. 

 

oOo

 

The next day, after school and lacrosse practice, Stiles sat in his room with the four, terrifying envelopes spread out in front of him. This decision felt like more than just where he wanted to go to college. It felt like he had to make a choice.

If he chose Brown or NYU, that was basically planning for the other Stiles to come back. Planning to leave, to go back to his own reality.

But if he chose Stanford, or even UCLA, that was planning ahead for _himself_. That was saying that he didn’t care if he went back, didn’t _want_ to go back.

So he stared at them for hours, lost in thought. 

Reasons to stay: He loved the Hales, they were like family to him now. He loved Talia’s authority, Luke’s strength, Laura’s animation, David’s calm, Danica’s sassiness, Julie’s gentleness, Cora’s snark, Tyler’s wariness. He loved each of the kids, and would do anything for them. God, he even loved seeing Peter as a dad. Who knew creeper-zombie-wolf was such a great father?

Reasons to go back: He missed his friends, he missed them so much. He missed his pack. He knew he was part of the pack here, but it wasn’t quite the same; he hadn’t been through with this pack what he’d been through with his own. He hated seeing Erica so timid, Boyd so alone. He hated knowing Isaac’s dad still abused him but being powerless to say anything. He wanted to research with Lydia, to see Scott and Allison being _ScottandAllison_. 

And that Derek needed him. He didn’t know it, but he needed him.

But this Derek he had built a relationship with. He wanted so many more nights like last night, holding hands and kissing good night. He wanted to lose his virginity in Derek’s bed.

He loved Derek.

He was in love with Derek.

Stiles was out of his chair so fast he left it spinning. He grabbed his hoodie and his keys and headed for the door, leaving the envelopes where they were.

He had to see him, to tell him. Fuck going slow, Stiles needed Derek to know how he felt, what he wanted. Whatever else happened, Stiles had to tell him.

 

oOo

 

When Stiles pulled up in front of the Hale house, he just sat for a moment. He could see the lights on in several of the windows, warm and inviting in the falling night. He knew the wolves must have heard him pull up, but no one was coming out of the house yet. Usually someone was waiting for him on the porch by the time he parked. Maybe they just weren’t expecting him and were in the middle of something. 

He hopped out of his jeep and started walking across the yard. He was beginning to get nervous, trying to put together a speech in hid head about exactly what he would tell Derek. He would accept Stanford; he would rather be prepared in case he was here for the long haul than take the chance of being so far away from Derek. From the whole family.

Then, between one step and another, everything changed.

The warm lights in the windows were out. Gone was Laura and David’s little add-on house, and all the toys and bikes that had been strewn across the yard. The woods around him no longer felt inhabited and inviting, but cold and threatening. 

He stood in the middle of the yard where he had celebrated with the Hales, facing the burned-out shell of a house where they had died.

“No,” he whispered, frozen. He tried to take a step forward and stumbled. He fell and caught himself on his hands. He tried to ground himself with the grass between his fingers, but it wasn’t green and lush like Talia always kept it. It was dead and patchy, scarred by the chemicals Kate had used to speed the fire.

“NO,” the cry was ripped out of him as he pushed himself to his feet and he started running. He threw open the front door that still bore the scars of the Alpha Pack’s mark. He ran across the dark first floor, to the family room where he had eaten pizza and watched movies with the family. Cold, empty. He ran to the kitchen, Julie’s domain. It was barely recognizable. 

Tears were streaming down his face, and he wasn’t sure when that had happened. Back in the foyer, he stopped and looked around helplessly. He looked at the stairs. Slowly, he began to drag himself up to the second floor, already knowing what he would find.

With shaking hands, he pushed open the door to Derek’s room. The far wall was completely burned away, opening over the empty forest. Gone was any hint, any proof that Derek had ever been whole, happy. That he’d ever had a family, a pack where he truly belonged.

“No,” he sobbed desperately, collapsing to his knees in the middle of the room. Gone. They were all gone. He buried his face in his hands as he felt something in him break. He couldn’t even try to control the sobs.

He couldn’t have said how long he was curled on the floor of Derek’s old bedroom. 

He was startled to suddenly feel a gentle hand on his shoulder. He whipped his head up, a traitorous burst of hope shooting through him, but he found himself facing the ethereal form of the spirit. She did not appear triumphant or even peaceful. Instead her face seemed to reflect the sadness Stiles felt, although she had no tears to cry. They stared at each other for a long moment.

“Why did you do this to me?” Stiles finally asked, voice low and broken from crying.

“You know why,” She said simply.

He did. He thought he should be angry at her for putting him through so much pain, but he couldn’t. He was too full of pain, for himself and for Derek. Derek needed him. Derek had always needed him, but now he knew it.

“Why me?” he asked honestly, still watching her faintly glowing eyes.

“There were three reasons,” she surprised him by answering. “The first was simple; your spark. I could have displaced any of your pack in this way, but your spark made you particularly susceptible to my magic. The second is the power you have that you don’t even realize. Everyone in your pack listens to you, Stiles. If you change how you see and treat the Hale alpha, the others will follow.” 

Her tone as she spoke seemed almost absent. She had walked away from him, facing out over the forest that he now knew she watched over.

“And the third?” He was still on his knees, and at his question she turned to face him again with a sad smile.

“I have seen many versions of reality, Genim Stilinski. For every life, there are as many possibilities as stars in the sky. I could never see all of them, but I have seen enough. And do you know what I have found?”

Stiles shook his head silently.

“Derek Hale always finds you. In every reality, in some capacity or way, you find each other.”

With that, she turned and faced the woods again and let out a mournful, beautiful howl. And then she was gone. As if she’d never been there.

Stiles sat and stared at the spot she had been and at the night sky, turning her words over and over in his head.

That was where Scott found him.


	8. Back Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaand we're back! I give up on Sundays. Sunday posting is not a rule I can apparently stick with.
> 
> This chapter deals mostly with Stiles immediately after he gets back, so sorry if it's kind of slow! I hit a little writers block with this one. I'm actually really sad to be leaving the Hales behind...who knows, maybe they'll make an appearance in another fic, if I get around to writing it after this =)
> 
> un-beta'd, so any mistakes are my own. I plan to go back through tomorrow, since it's super late now, for a proofread. Sorry if there's anything glaring that bothers you!
> 
> Thank you guys so much for reading, and for your kind words so far! For those that have asked, I honestly have no idea how long this is going to be. There's at least a few more chapters left though, we aren't done yet! These crazy kids have to figure their shit out first.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!

“Stiles? Stiles!”

Stiles heard Scott before he saw him. He didn’t reply; he knew Scott could smell him, hear his heartbeat. He continued to stare at the night sky as Scott thundered up the stairs and threw open the door to Derek’s old room.

“Stiles! Oh my god, are you okay?” Scott ran into the room and dropped to his knees by Stiles’ side, checking him over frantically with hands and eyes for injuries. Stiles just looked at him. Satisfied his friend was not bleeding or trapped Scott met his eyes again.

“Where the hell have you been?!? We’ve been looking everywhere for you, it’s like your scent just disappeared!” Scott was still clearly worried, shouting although Stiles was right in front of him. Stiles thought he must be quite a sight, covered in dust and face puffy and red from crying.

“How long have I been gone?” he asked quietly, voice still raw from shouting and sobbing.

“Almost a month,” Scott replied, not moving his arm from around Stiles’ shoulders like he was afraid Stiles would disappear again. “You were just…gone. Your dad has been frantic. We found your jeep here, but then your trail just vanished. We’ve been searching for you every day, every inch of the woods.”

Stiles nodded, half to himself. So time had carried on at the same rate here as there. Good to know. He vaguely wondered how that would affect his schooling as he pushed himself to his feet. Scott stood with him, eyeing him warily. Stiles looked around the destroyed room one more time, pushing back fresh tears, and nodded to himself one more time as he headed for the door.

“Let’s go.”

“Go where? What? Stiles, slow down, where have you been?!?” Scott cried, rushing after him.

“To Deaton’s. I…I need to talk to Deaton.”

“Okay, but-“

“Please, Scott,” Stiles cut him off, turning to face his friend. Scott must have seen the desperation in his face, because he just nodded slowly and led the way down the stairs. 

 

oOo

 

By the time they arrived at the animal clinic, several of the pack were already there. The drive had been mostly silent, with Stiles staring out the window and trying to get his bearings, while Scott cast him worried glances and tried not to burst from unasked questions.

They barely made it in the doors before his dad was there, pulling him in to a crushing hug. Stiles clutched him back just as tightly, eyes still teary, though for a different reason than John’s. 

Stiles was on the receiving end of many worried looks and relieved hugs, and he dodged several questions, before he found himself on the metal table being looked over by Deaton and Melissa. He looked around as Melissa took his pulse and Deaton whispered with Scott, probably about what Stiles had said so far (which was nothing). Stiles let his eyes drift around the room, taking in faces that he had seen so recently, yet missed so terribly.

Lydia, Allison, Erica, Boyd, even Jackson, had all gathered and were watching him with looks varying from relieved to worried to curious. The only notable absences were Peter (shocker), Isaac and, of course, Derek.

As if reading his mind, it was that moment that Derek and Isaac made their appearance. 

Stiles’ gaze immediately zeroed in on Derek, his Derek. He felt his heart rate kick up, his breathing increase in a mix of excitement, fear, and sadness. He was vaguely aware that the other werewolves had noticed the change and were casting about confused looks. But he only saw Derek.

And it seemed Derek only saw him, too. The moment he stepped into the room, he froze, eyes locked with Stiles. His eyes widened, nostrils flaring, and he looked suddenly _gutted_. That wasn’t quite the reaction Stiles would have expected, and even through his own conflicting emotions he couldn’t help but be bewildered.

“Well, Stiles, it appears your physically fine,” Deaton said from his left. Stiles tore his gaze away to look at him, but he was still hyper-aware of Derek out of the corner of his eye. He saw fists clenched tight as Derek slowly made his way into the room. “Now, would you mind telling us where you have been for the past month? Were you abducted, kidnapped?”

Stiles swallowed and looked around at all the expectant faces.

“Could we, maybe…can I talk to you? Just you?” he requested quietly. This was met by an immediate uproar of refusals and protests, but Deaton’s loud whistle quickly cut through the noise. Once the room was reasonably quiet again, Deaton turned and studied Stiles for a moment. He seemed to reach some agreement with himself, because then he turned back to the others.

“Most of you have school in the morning, I suggest you head home and try to get some sleep,” he pronounced. When the assorted werewolves, banshee, and humans still grumbled and didn’t head for the door, he sighed. “You can all see he’s not injured or in any apparent danger. I swear to you, if there’s anything any of you need to know, you will know. Otherwise, I think we should respect Stiles’ privacy, don’t you?”

With many sighs and a lot of muttering, the room began to finally clear out. Scott caught Stiles eyes questioningly, and Stiles nodded. He knew, whatever else happened, he would end up telling Scott everything. He just wasn’t ready yet.

After that, Stiles stared at his hands, not wanting to meet anyone else’s eyes. When he looked up again, it was to find that he and Deaton weren’t entirely alone. They were still accompanied by Stiles’ dad and Derek. At Stiles’ look, John just shook his head.

“Son, you’ve lost your mind if you think I’m leaving your side after the last month.”

Stiles sighed but nodded in acceptance. That was understandable. Next he glanced back over at Derek, who hadn’t moved from his spot holding up the wall. Derek glared in response.

“I’m not going anywhere. If something’s out there, I need to know.”

“Derek, I will not keep anything from you that could compromise the pack or the territory,” Deaton said, conciliatory. Derek just continued to shake his head stubbornly.

“As the alpha, I should-“

“Derek!” Stiles cut in desperately. He closed his eyes. “Please,” he said quietly. Derek was apparently taken aback. For a moment, he looked like he might continue to argue, but then he just clenched his jaw visibly, gave one curt nod, and left.

“Okay, we’re alone now, Stiles. Now, what happened?” Deaton asked gently.

With a deep breath he lauched into his tale. He told his dad and Deaton about the initial ‘meeting’ with the spirit, what she had told him. He told them about waking up the next morning in a world that was his and wasn’t his. About how the Hale fire had never happened. He told them about camping, and saving Jonas, and how no one outside of the Hales and himself seemed to even know that the supernatural existed. He talked in detail for several minutes, leaving nothing out except, notably, the fact that he’d fallen for Derek there. And that he wasn’t sure where that left him now.

By the time he got to that day, to suddenly seeing the Hale house change before his eyes, to finding himself back in his own reality, he was choking on the lump in his throat again. By the end of his monologue, Deaton and his dad were watching him with sad eyes, probably reflecting on their own memories of the Hale family. They stood in silence for a moment, broken only by Stiles’ sniffling.

“I believe the other version of myself was right,” Deaton said finally. “I’ll do what research I can, just to make sure, but I have heard of these types of spirits before. As he, or I, I suppose, told you, it’s rare that they interact with humans, and when they do it’s never malevolent. Physically and mentally, I believe you should have no side effects. How this experience affects you otherwise depends on you.”

“What do you mean?” Stiles asked.

“I mean, whether you learned what it was she intended for you to learn, and how you move forward.”

Stiles thought on that for a moment, nodding slowly to himself. Then he looked up again.

“So what do I tell Derek? Should I tell him everything?”

“Now that is a conundrum. On the one hand, perhaps it would be comforting to him to have someone that knew his family, someone who can mourn with him. It also might be comforting to know that somehow, somewhere, there’s a version of his family that is alive and growing. But, then again, it might just be painful for him that you got to spend time with his family and he didn’t,” Deaton mused aloud. Stiles had thought both sides of that through as well, and couldn’t decide what would be best.

“Um, hate to break this to you, but I think that decision might be out of your hands,” John put in from where he had wandered to the window. Confused, Stiles hopped off the table and went to stand by his father, just in time to see familiar taillights disappearing quickly into the night.

 

oOo

 

Stiles and John drove home in contemplative silence. Stiles was quietly freaking out over the fact that Derek had probably heard every word he’d said, while being simultaneously grateful that he had decided to leave out any mention of kissing. He also vaguely noticed he was still wearing the clothes he had been wearing when he’d left for the Hales that day, the hoodie, t-shirt, and jeans. So he hadn’t just zapped back into his pajamas. Huh.

They reached the house and went inside. At the foot of the stairs, Stiles pulled his dad into another crushing hug, which John did not hesitate to reciprocate. 

“I’m so sorry, Dad,” Stiles whispered.

“What are you sorry for?”

“For everything,” at that statement, John pulled back and looked at his son quizzically. 

“The other you didn’t know anything about werewolves. He had so much less to be worried about and he didn’t even know it. I’m sorry for dragging you into all of this mess,” Stiles elaborated. John gave him a sad smile in return.

“With everything you’ve been through over the past few years, I’m glad you didn’t leave me out forever. I may have a few more wrinkles and grey hairs, but at the end of the day, I’d rather know.”

Stiles guessed that made sense. He gave John’s shoulder one more squeeze.

“I’m gonna head up to bed. It’s been a long day,” he said. John laughed a little at that.

“You can say that again. Good night, son.”

“Night, Dad” Stiles replied, and made his way up the stairs, feeling John’s eyes on him all the way.

Stiles had known Derek would have questions of course. What he didn’t know was whether Derek would avoid him for weeks and then suddenly appear demanding answers, or whether Derek might appear in his windowsill that same night. What he didn’t expect was that Derek had beaten him home.

He turned on his bedroom light and almost had a heart attack.

“ _Jesus_ , Derek, oh my god!” he whisper-yelled, even in his fear knowing he didn’t want to alert his dad. Derek stood a little hunched in on himself by the window. Stiles had never seen him look so uncomfortable, like he didn’t know what to do with himself or where to look. Stiles sighed.

“So, you heard everything then?” Stiles prompted. When Derek didn’t respond, he ran an exasperated hand through his hair. “Dammit, Derek, I asked everyone to leave for a reason! You knew I didn’t want anyone overhearing, why would you do that?”

Derek fidgeted for another second, before he took a deep breath and finally met Stiles’ eyes. Stiles breath caught at the devastated, vulnerable look on his face. He’d never seen him look like that, not either Derek.

“Because you smell like them,” Derek said quietly, painfully. Stiles didn’t have to ask who he meant. Stiles smelled like pack, like people Derek hadn’t smelled in years. Derek couldn't possibly have left without an explanation for that.

Without even thinking about it, Stiles opened his arms in a clear invitation. Derek was across the room faster than Stiles could blink, wrapped around him, face buried in his collar where the hoodie that he’d worn around the Hale house several times probably retained the scent of every passing touch. They stood that way for several long moments, Derek just breathing in the long-forgotten scents. Stiles let him stand there and breathe, but he hadn't been kidding when he'd said he was tired.

When Stiles took a small step away, Derek whined a little in protest.

“Hey, it’s okay, I just don’t want to stand right here all night,” Stiles soothed, kicking off his shoes and leading Derek toward his bed. He didn’t even ask; they both already knew Derek wasn’t going anywhere that night.

He slipped off his jeans, leaving his hoodie and t-shirt in place. Any other time, he might have felt weird undressing in front of Derek, but he didn’t want to make Derek wait even the few seconds it would take to change into pajama pants. Stiles climbed in first, lifting the covers to allow Derek to do the same after he’d kicked off his own shoes.

Derek immediately curled right back around him, burying his face once more where Stiles neck met his collar. Stiles stared at his ceiling. This was not how he’d ever imagined having Derek in his bed, but sex was the furthest thing from his mind. Abruptly, Stiles realized his neck was getting damp. Was Derek _crying?_

Of course Derek was crying. Stiles had seen first hand now, he knew _exactly_ the life that Derek had known, what he had expected. He knew Derek carried guilt around everywhere he went, feeling responsible for the death of his entire, loving, energetic, wonderful family. He couldn’t even imagine what it must feel like, being surrounded by their scent after so many years. Stiles stroked his hair soothingly, blinking back his own tears. 

They lay like that quietly, until finally they both fell into an exhausted sleep.

 

oOo

 

When Stiles woke up, the first thing he was aware of was the brightness of his room, and the fact that he was definitely late for school. Why hadn’t his dad woken him? He wondered if, since he was late anyway, he could stop by _Hunting Grounds_ …he was kind of craving one of Laura’s caramel mochas.

Then it all came crashing back on him, like a wave.

_Hunting Grounds_ didn’t exist, had never existed. Laura didn’t exist anymore. Suddenly, he was glad his dad had decided to let him skip school that day; he didn’t think he could face anyone today.

Well, anyone but the werewolf currently still asleep with his head on Stiles’ chest and an arm thrown across his body. The very fact that Derek was still there, still asleep, spoke volumes for how secure the scents Stiles was wearing made him. Stiles looked down at the peacefully sleeping man, raising his hand to resume stroking his hair as he had been when they’d fallen asleep. He wondered if the scent of his family was giving him good dreams. He wondered how rude his awakening would be.

He didn’t wonder long. Soon, Derek took a deeper breath and stirred. His eyes blinked open slowly, but then a frown furrowed his brow and the hand resting on Stiles’ side clenched into a fist as he squeezed his eyes closed again. Stiles didn’t say anything as Derek buried his face in his chest and inhaled again. Then Derek raised his head and met Stiles’ eyes, and they watched each other for a moment.

“Breakfast?” Stiles asked. Derek nodded.

 

oOo

 

Breakfast was a fairly quiet affair with Stiles still reeling from the loss that was so fresh to him and Derek staying close to bask in the scent of his lost family. It was a little cumbersome to have a big werewolf on his heels as he navigated the kitchen, grabbing eggs and bacon and starting coffee. Eventually, inspiration struck, and Stiles peeled off his hoodie and held it out to Derek. Derek frowned at it for a minute before he put it on, and that seemed to appease him somewhat. He still didn’t go far, but he at least sat down at the island while Stiles threw their breakfast together.

Stiles sat down next to him, putting their plates down close enough that they brushed elbows while they ate. After a while, Derek looked at him.

“Can you…tell me about them?”

“Um, yeah, of course. What do you want to know?” Stiles asked, putting down his fork. Derek struggled with that for a second.

“I don’t know, anything? Everything? How were they? Were they happy? How did you like them?” He replied, not really meeting Stiles’ eye. Stiles smiled slowly.

“Dude. Your family was awesome,” he said, hoping it wasn't too irreverent or something. But Derek finally met his eye, and his face was something approaching happy.

“So, first of all, your mom? So cool! She was super chill about the whole thing, just kind of took it in stride,” Stiles began. He went through and detailed each family member, talking about what he loved about them and sharing stories. He laughed and Derek even chuckled a little when he talked about ‘meeting’ Peter for the first time and his own reaction. He didn’t start to choke up until he got to Laura. He had to stop for a moment, and Derek looked at him with a sad little smile.

“I bet she loved you,” he said quietly.

“Yeah,” Stiles sniffed, “she was the best. We got close pretty fast.”

“She was always better with people. She was supposed to be the alpha,” Derek said, looking down into his coffee. Stiles couldn’t stop himself from laying a hand on Derek’s wrist; he’d gotten so used to the easy touching, and it seemed like Derek needed it.

“I think she’d be proud of you, though, if she could see how you’re doing,” Stiles told him. Derek just shrugged, but his frown seemed a little softer around the edges. Stiles counted that as a win.

“So she was good then? She was happy?” Derek asked.

“Yeah, she was good. She and Danica had this little coffee shop, _Hunting Grounds,”_ Derek snorted at the name and Stiles grinned. “They had the best coffee. And Isaac actually worked there.”

“They always talked about opening a shop together,” Derek mused. Stiles took a deep breath and plunged on.

“And she was married,” he blurted, and Derek’s head whipped to stare at him. Stiles swallowed around the lump in his throat. “He was a good guy, his name’s David. They had two little girls, Elise and Lucy.”

Derek looked so torn, and Stiles heart bled for him. Derek clenched his jaw and his hands tightened enough that he broke the handle of the coffee mug. Stiles gently took the mug away from him. Derek pinched the bridge of his nose with a shaking hand, struggling to control his breathing at the thought of his nieces that he’d never meet. That never existed. Stiles twisted in his chair so that he was facing him.

“I’m so sorry, Derek,” he whispered. “I’m sorry for everything you went through, and I’m sorry none of us understood. I wish I could…” He trailed off, leaning his forehead on Derek’s shoulder.They sat there as Derek’s breathing calmed, and he relaxed a little.

That was how Stiles’ dad found them. Derek perked up a little seconds before Stiles heard the keys in the door. John walked in and set a box on the table without a word.

“Save any room for donuts?”

His dad had apparently known Derek was there that morning, but had surmised the reason and decided to let them be. Stiles was incredibly grateful for that, and Derek probably even more so. John had instead decided to go for donuts, having taken the day off so he could stay close to Stiles. 

The rest of the morning passed much less emotionally, with filling Stiles in on what little he had missed. Apparently mostly just life as usual, apart from the fact that he was, you know, missing. So a lot of searching and maps and trying to find someone who might know a locating spell (which, unsurprisingly, came to nothing). Around lunchtime, Stiles’ phone vibrated.

_Scott: coming over 2day, u HAVE 2 tell me what happened 2 you_

Stiles sighed and replied, telling him to come over in an hour or so. He filled his dad and Derek in on what was happening.

“That’s not surprising. So what are you going to tell him?” John asked. Stiles looked at Derek.

“What?” Derek asked gruffly.

“Is is ok if I tell him the truth?”

“Why would you ask me that?” Derek asked, confused.

“I don’t know, it just feels like your thing,” Stiles replied.

“It happened to you,” Derek retorted. At Stiles’ unimpressed look, he sighed. “I don’t care, you can tell him if you want. You can tell anyone if you want.” Stiles nodded slowly.

“Maybe not everyone…well, maybe I’ll give them a short version,” he decided. He was glad he wouldn’t have to hide things from Scott, though. Derek nodded, and Stiles even thought he might look grateful.

Derek followed Stiles back up the stairs, unwilling to be parted from the scent of _family_. When they got to Stiles’ room, Stiles put his hands on his hips and sighed.

“Look, the thing is I really need to take a shower. It that going to mess with you? Like, is it going to wash away…,” he trailed off, trying to indicate with his hands what he meant. Derek shook his head.

“No, your scents are mingled enough that it won’t just wash away. It’ll fade soon enough, though,” Derek replied, trying to look unaffected. 

“Does the hoodie help?” Stiles asked. At Derek’s nod, he peeled of his t-shirt too, intending to toss it to him. When he got it over his head, though, he found Derek was staring at his torso, looking murderous.

Before he could ask ‘ _what?’_ , Derek was right in front of him, raising a hand to his left side.

“You were hurt,” Derek growled. Stiles looked down to find, to his astonishment, there were four long, barely-healed scars stretching from just below his ribs to his hip bone. They were still there, physical proof that it had all happened.

“What happened?” Derek demanded.

“It was a bobcat,” Stiles explained dazedly. “We were camping, and it came after me and Jonas.”

“A bobcat? Was Jonas-“

“He was fine. I killed it with a hunting knife, but not before it-“ he indicated to the wounds, tracing over them wonderingly. He was oddly glad he got to keep them; it seemed fitting that this whole experience left him scarred outside as well as in.

“You saved him?” Derek asked, but it didn’t really feel like a question, so Stiles just stared at him as he traced the lines. “You saved him,” he said again.

Derek lifted his gaze again to meet his eyes, and suddenly Stiles was aware of how close they were standing. And, okay, _now_ he wanted to kiss him, but now was definitely _not_ the time. Instead, Stiles thrust the shirt still in his hand in Derek’s chest. Derek looked down at it quizzically.

“Here,” Stiles said, unnecessarily. “Keep it as long as you need it.”

Then he rushed from the room and headed for the shower.

 

oOo

 

Derek cleared out before Scott came over to give them a little space, but not before Stiles made sure he knew he was welcome to come back as soon as Scott was gone. He wasn’t sure if Derek would take him up on that; if the draw of his family’s scent would overcome his reluctance to accept anything from anyone. 

Scott came in and immediately pulled him into another bone-crushing hug. Stiles was pretty sure he’d gotten more hugs in the past month that in the last few years combined. He waved and John, who was on the couch watching some sports recap, and then practically manhandled Stiles up the stairs to his room.

“Dude, what _happened_? The suspense is killing me,” he declared, dropping onto Stiles’ bed. He wrinkled his nose. “Why does it smell so much like Derek in here?” Stiles sighed. 

“Well, it all started with a fairy-type thing,” he began. He shared his story with Scott much the way he had with Deaton and his dad (and apparently Derek) the night before, starting at the beginning and hitting all the key points up to his triumphant return. This time, though, he remembered to include the part about the bobcat, dutifully showing off his scars when he got there. He also shared more details about the innocent, naive Scott that inhabited that reality. He still didn’t touch on anything between him and Derek though, unsure how to approach it and how it would be received. He never could hide anything from his best friend, though.

“And?” Scott asked when Stiles had finished. Stiles froze.

“And what?” he asked cautiously. Scott rolled his eyes.

“Stiles, I’ve known you most of our lives. I _know_ there’s something you’re not telling me.”

Stiles stopped pacing, as he’d been doing while he talked, and sat down next to Scott.

“Okay, look. You would know if Derek was anywhere near here, right? If he was close enough to listen in?” he asked, glancing around suspiciously. He’d learned that lesson the night before. Scott concentrated for a moment, then shook his head.

“There’s no one in listening distance but us, and your dad is downstairs.”

“Okay, the thing is-“ Stiles took a deep breath for courage. “WhileIwasthereIsortofhadathingwithDerek,” he got out in a rush. Scott blinked.

“You did what?!?” he asked incredulously. Stiles groaned.

“I know! I don’t know, it just sort of happened!” he said, covering his face with his hands.

“How does that- but then- how do you- what???” Scott spluttered.

“Exactly!” Stiles cried, throwing his hands out. Scott just stared at him, stunned.

“Okay, slow down. How did this ‘just happen’?” Scott said finally. So Stiles started again, this time just sharing the StilesandDerek aspect of things. He told Scott about Derek’s obvious interest and their mixed emotions. He told him about his family’s easy acceptance of it, and about their kiss in the forest. He told him about their conversations, their first date, and everything Derek had said to him. By the end, Scott looked a little less stunned and more confused.

“Huh. So…does Derek know any of this?”

“Dude, are you crazy? He would probably kill me at best, or be horrified and avoid me for the rest of our lives at worst,” Stiles replied, running a hand through his hair.

“I don’t know, what if the other Derek was right? I mean, I never even considered you two…being a ‘you two’. But, I don’t know, maybe it actually makes sense?” Scott said cautiously.

“I can’t- I just found out what he’s been through, how much he needs…somebody. I can’t take that chance,” Stiles tried to explain helplessly. “Besides, what would I even say? ‘Hey, Derek, I forgot to mention I kind of got together with the other version of you, what do you say we give it a go?’” Scott huffed a laugh at that mental image and Stiles groaned again.

“Okay,” Scott said slowly, “So where do you go from here?”

“Honestly? Not a clue.”

 

oOo

 

Derek did return that night, after Stiles was already in bed. He didn't say a word as he climbed in the window, but he hesitated until Stiles lifted the covers and shifted over to make room. Derek climbed in and curled around him again, and Stiles couldn't help feeling relieved. Curled around each other, sharing their grief over all the Hales who hadn't gotten to live their lives, they both drifted off to sleep.


	9. Surprise!...?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay new chapter! Inching forward in the story, bit by bit! You get to start seeing a little more of various members of the pack now, so you're welcome! Also, we're revisiting the Panic at the Disco theme from several chapters back, because I honestly just love their Death of a Bachelor album. If you haven't listened to it, you should. Or maybe it's just me.
> 
> un-beta'd, any mistakes are mine and mine alone.
> 
> Thank you guys for sticking with me so far, and for all the positive feedback! It warms the cockles of my twisty, little heart.
> 
> Come talk to me on tumblr, my link is in the end notes!
> 
> Enjoy!!!

The next day, Saturday, began much the way that Friday had. Derek and Stiles slept late, then went down to the kitchen to find food. The sheriff had already taken too many days off work, so they had the house to themselves for the morning. Stiles already knew neither of them were morning people, so he was relieved that he didn’t feel the need to entertain Derek too much, just handed him a bowl of cereal and a spoon and got out the milk.

They had almost finished eating before Derek spoke. He cleared his throat nervously, catching Stiles’ attention.

“So what about me? Was I…very different?” he asked. Stiles froze. Here it was, an opportunity to tell Derek about what had happened, about them. But Stiles just couldn’t, there were too many risks. He fell back on his old friend, humor.

“Well, he was certainly nicer than you,” he snorted. He could immediately see the attempt at a joke had fallen flat; rather than growl at him or smirk, Derek just shoveled more cereal into his mouth, staring at his bowl in an effort to conceal his unhappiness.

“I mean, he hadn’t had to deal with the stuff you have,” Stiles backpedaled quickly. “So, yeah, he was a little different. Happier, more trusting. But, I mean, he was still you.” He realized as he said it exactly how true it was. When he looked at the man in front of him, he didn’t see a completely different person. He saw Derek, but one that had been hurt, deeply and repeatedly.

“He was a fireman,” Stiles offered. “I mean, you were.” Derek looked at him then, face thoughtful. Stiles took that as permission to continue.

“You seemed to like your job, said it had been exactly what you wanted to do. I think maybe sometimes it was boring, though, since you were in Beacon Hills. Laura actually told me a hilarious story about you trying to save a cat from a tree. That’s a mental image I’ll always have,” Stiles chuckled. Derek looked amused but wistful.

“That wasn’t me,” he reminded Stiles quietly. Stiles felt his face fall, and dropped his gaze to the coffee cup in front of him.

“I guess not,” he replied. He felt Derek’s eyes on him for a moment before Derek got up and took his dishes to the sink. Then he stood there with his back to Stiles, seemingly unsure what to do. Stiles cleared his throat, casting about for a new topic.

"Hey, where is Cora, exactly?" he asked suddenly.

"Argentina," Derek told him, turning around and folding his arms. "One of my mom's cousins had married into a pack there. He and his wife apparently came to Beacon Hills when they heard about the fire. Laura and I had cleared out by then, since we didn't know Cora had survived, but they found her out in the woods and took her back to Argentina with them. She was only 11, so they became like an adoptive family for her." Stiles nodded, taking in the story.

"Do you talk to her often?" he asked.

"We skype every other week or so."

"So, have you told her about...you know, me? My grand adventure?" Stiles asked. Derek shook his head.

"Not yet. I probably will when we talk next, if that's okay," he replied.

"Sure, of course," Stiles assured him. "I'd be happy to talk to her. If, you know, she wants to."

"I'll ask," Derek said. They slipped into silence for a moment again.

“So how long do you think we have until the scent wears off me?” Stiles asked, changing the subject and turning in his seat. Derek shrugged.

“Just a couple of days probably.”

“Okay,” Stiles nodded slowly. “So… _Supernatural_ marathon today?” Derek shrugged again, this time with a smirk.

“Sure.”

 

oOo

 

The rest of the weekend passed in the same, lazy way. He and Derek hung out, Scott came over a couple of more times, and John was very understanding about the whole thing. It was all very platonic, which was confusing to say the least. There were a couple of times that Stiles’ traitorous, 18-year-old body got confused about when it was appropriate to get turned on. Like late at night, when Derek was cuddling him in his bed. Or on the couch, when Derek would lean in and sniff at Stiles’ neck. You can imagine the confusion. 

These moments would give Stiles sudden surges of panic as he tried to fight back his body’s reaction. Alt!Derek (as he’d labeled him in his head) had said that werewolves could only smell someone’s arousal when they were paying attention, but how much was enough to smell? And did they have to be looking for that specific scent, or did they just have to be paying attention in general? Stiles should have gotten more details, dammit. As it was, he just tried to ignore it and hope that Derek didn’t notice. Not that he would know if he did; Derek gave nothing away.

On Sunday afternoon, they were vegging out in front of the TV again when Derek’s phone started going crazy, text alert after text alert. Derek just glanced at it and huffed in annoyance, dropping it back on the couch. Stiles didn’t ask because, hello, not his business. But it didn’t stop, and Derek didn’t answer, and minding his own business had never been one of Stiles’ strengths.

“Trouble?” he asked finally, looking pointedly at Derek’s phone. Derek grunted.

“Peter,” he said, as if that was the only explanation needed. Which, okay, but…

“What does he want?” Stiles asked. He was surprised at his own lack of nervousness or dislike at the name. 

“He found your t-shirt,” Derek replied. God, this was like pulling teeth.

“Okay…?” Stiles prompted. Then he thought for a minute. “Oh. Right. Okay,” he said, understanding dawning. The t-shirt that smelled like the whole Hale family. Including Julie and Jonas. “So…what does he want?” he asked again.

“Explanations,” Derek said. 

“Oh my god, what, does it physically hurt you to say more than a couple of words at a time?” Stiles complained, exasperated. Then he sighed. “Well, does he want to come here, then?” Derek turned to look at him, frowning.

“You’d be okay with that?”

“Sure, I guess,” Stiles shrugged. Derek still eyed him warily. “What? I got to know him a little, you know, over there. And, I mean, if it was me…I’d want to know too.” 

Derek just kept watching him for a minute, and Stiles raised his eyebrows and nodded his head pointedly at the phone that had stopped alerting texts and just started ringing continuously. 

“If you’re sure…” Derek started, but Stiles cut him off, reaching over him to grab his phone off the couch.

“Will you just- hello?” Stiles said, answering the phone himself. Derek growled, but didn’t try to get it back.

“Stiles,” a familiar, smooth voice replied. It was probably supposed to sound creepy, but Stiles just rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, hey Peter. We’re at my house, you coming?”

“I’m already here,” Peter replied.

“Creepy, but not unexpected,” Stiles replied, getting up and walking to the door. He opened it to find Peter walking up the steps. “Come on in,” he said easily. Peter’s eyebrow quirked at Stiles casual greeting, but followed him in the house. As he passed, Stiles noticed that he held the t-shirt in question balled up in his fist.

“Nephew,” he greeted Derek. “So this is where you’ve holed yourself up the last few days. New developments I should know about?” he asked, glancing pointedly at Stiles. Derek just glared, but Stiles felt his face heat up. Of course Peter noticed that, looking at him with surprised amusement. Stiles cleared his throat and shut the door.

“So, Peter, I get why you’re here,” he started, changing the subject. Peter nodded and held up the t-shirt.

“Yes. I was hoping one of you could explain why this, which I believe belongs to you, smells like my dead family,” he said bluntly.

“Right,” Stiles took a deep breath. “Here we go again.”

Peter listened, face impassive, as Stiles recounted (again) his story. He should really just write it down and email it to everyone who might be interested. That would save him a lot of time and breath. When he’d finished, Peter just nodded, though Stiles could see that he was more tense than he had been at the start.

“I see,” was all he said. He shifted his gaze down to the shirt in his fist. “So Julie…”

“Was amazing. Way too perceptive,” Stiles smiled sadly at her memory, and Peter mirrored the smile.

“And Jonas?”

“He was awesome, so smart. I actually got these saving him from a bobcat on a camping trip,” Stiles filled in, lifting the hem of his shirt to show his scars. Peter stared at them, nodding slowly, fists clenched. Stiles made the executive decision not to mention Willow. That could only bring him pain, knowing there was a daughter he’d never have.

Stiles didn’t really know where to go from here. He wasn’t really comfortable letting Peter all up in his space the way he was with Derek, so he couldn’t really offer that. Peter just stared for several long moments, then stood suddenly.

“May I keep this?” he asked, lifting the shirt. Stiles glanced at Derek, who had been silently staring at his hands throughout the exchange.

“You still have my hoodie, right?” he asked. At Derek’s nod, Stiles turned back to Peter. “Yeah, keep it.”

“Thank you.” Peter said, as sincerely as Stiles had ever heard him say anything. Then, without another word, Peter left, closing the front door quietly behind him.

Stiles dropped on the couch next to Derek, exhausted. 

“Will he be okay?” he asked. Derek shrugged and looked at the front door that Peter had just exited.

“As okay as he ever is, I guess.”

 

oOo

 

Derek was still there when Stiles went to bed that night, but he was gone by the time John woke him up the next morning to go to school. They went in early to talk to the principal, since Stiles had been gone almost a month. Apparently the pack had decided that, since Stiles disappearance was clearly supernatural related, they shouldn’t declare him a missing person. Instead, John had told the school Stiles had a really bad case of mono, and Melissa had backed him up as a medical professional. Stiles applauded their forethought (being legally missing would have required a lot more explaining and paperwork), but it didn’t change the fact that he had missed two and a half weeks of school. Thank god one of the weeks was spring break.

So John and Stiles talked to the principal, who agreed that as long as Stiles made up his assignments and tests, he could still graduate as planned. That was both relieving and frustrating, since Stiles actually _had_ done all the work, but he would take what he could get. Besides it would probably be easier the second time around.

At lunch, he set his tray down, and almost immediately found himself being surrounded and stared down by the pack.

“Um, hey guys,” he said. Lydia rolled her eyes.

“Okay, we’ve given you space for the whole weekend-“

“Which you apparently spent with Derek,” Erica cut in, sniffing pointedly.

“-but your time is up. We need an explanation,” Lydia finished as if she hadn’t been interrupted. 

“Oh my god, I’m so tired of telling this story,” Stiles moaned, dropping his head loudly to the table.

“Then you really should have just told us all at once,” Lydia said sweetly. Stiles raised his head to glare at her. He took the moment to try to parse through exactly what he was going to tell them. 

“I was in an alternate reality,” he said bluntly. Okay, mouth, I guess that works. Everyone’s eyes widened, except Scott’s. Stiles was gratified that even Allison seemed surprised by the information. At least somethings were still sacred in their friendship.

“Short version, I got abducted by a spirit, who sent me to some other place where Kate never burned down the Hale house. Spent the last month with the Hale family, in a universe where none of you even knew about werewolves. That part sucked, but mostly it was awesome. Then she brought me back.” Everyone stared at him in stunned silence for a few minutes, while he just dug in to his lunch. Then the questions and statements started pouring in.

“Are you okay?” asked Allison.

“Where is this spirit? Is it a threat?” demanded Boyd

“That explains where Derek’s been the last few days,” Isaac mused.

“Why you?” The last question was, of course, Lydia, who was watching him with narrowed, calculating eyes. Damn her for always asking the wrong/right questions. Stiles swallowed and answered each question in order, pointing at the person who’d asked.

“Yes, I don’t know but Deaton says she’s not a threat, yep, and you’d have to ask her.”

That last part wasn’t exactly a lie, per se. Stiles did know why him, but he really didn’t feel like explaining his and Derek’s ‘bond’, which would only raise more wrong/right questions. Everyone was quiet again, thinking.

“So…now what?” Allison asked.

“Now we plan Derek’s birthday party,” Stiles announced, clapping his hands together. More stunned silence. Stiles kinda liked having this effect, he felt powerful.

“What?” Scott asked at last.

“Derek has a birthday?” Isaac asked. Stiles pointed at him.

“I know, right? Yes, Derek has a birthday, and it’s on Friday.”

“So?” Jackson asked, sounding bored. Stiles kind of wanted to chew him out, but he also knew that a month ago he would have had the same reaction.

“So we’re going to have a party. A pack party. Attendance is mandatory,” Stiles declared.Everyone was just staring at him in confusion.

“Why?” Erica asked.

“Because! He’s your alpha! And he’s our friend…kind of,” he said. He could see he was losing them, and sighed. “Look, guys, I know he’s kind of an ass most of the time but…we’re all he’s got, right? Plus, I mean, I saw you guys over the last month. And it really sucked for all of us. Sure, we’ve faced a lot more danger and had to grow up a lot since Derek came into the picture but, I don’t know, I think we’re all better because of it too. Because of him,” he finished, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Great speech, Stilinski, are you gonna cry?” Jackson mocked.

“Shut up, Jackson. I think he’s right,” Lydia said primly.

“You do?” Stiles asked.

“Yes. Good luck getting Derek to agree, though,” she replied.

“Oh. Right,” Stiles hadn’t actually thought that far. “Don’t worry, leave that to me,” he said with a confidence he didn’t feel.

“Oh, we were going to,” Boyd said, grinning. Evil bastards. All of them.

 

oOo

 

Derek didn’t come back that night, or the next. Stiles figured that made sense; being back at school and surrounded by the pack probably would have covered up the last of the scent of the Hales. He was sad about that, even though he could never smell it anyway. It had felt a little like he was carrying a piece of them with him, like they were still there in a way. But now they were well and truly gone, faded from him completely.

He also wasn’t sure what that meant for him and Derek. Did they go back to the way they were before all of this, only communicating when they had to? He hoped not; he hoped they had formed some kind of bond here. He couldn’t be sure though, his own perspective was biased by the feelings he had carried over from alt!Derek. 

He missed him. Both of them, he guessed. It just felt like missing Derek, singular, not divided between two people. He missed him especially when he curled up in his bed that suddenly seemed too big and empty and tried to go to sleep.

 

oOo

 

Friday evening, Stiles met the rest of the pack outside of the loft. He’d put Jackson and Lydia in charge of getting pizza, Scott and Allison in charge of a cake, Isaac and Boyd on drinks, and told Erica to get a movie or something. He got out of his jeep with his small present in his hoodie pocket as the others pulled up. Once everyone was there, Stiles squared his shoulders and prepared to lead them into the building.

“How did you get Derek to agree to this?” Isaac asked.

“Um…” he hedged.

“You didn’t tell him,” Lydia surmised. Erica burst out laughing and Jackson groaned.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Allison asked gently.

“Sure it is! Who doesn’t love a surprise birthday party?” Scott said encouragingly, throwing his arm around Stiles’ neck.

“Thanks, man,” Stiles said. 

The real question, though, was did Derek love anything? He opened the door when Stiles knocked, and just glared at all of them, clearly unamused.

“What?” he demanded when no one said anything.

“Happy birthday!” Stiles tried to say cheerfully, but it kind of came out as more of a question. Derek’s glare darkened and he went to shut the door in their faces, but Stiles caught it with his whole body.

“Come on, dude, we’re here to celebrate! You! To celebrate you! Because it’s your birthday!” Stiles’ pleaded, feeling the others shift uncomfortably behind him.

“Do I smell pizza?” Peter’s voice drifted from further in the loft. He came to stand at Derek’s shoulder, smirk in place. “Well what do we have here, Derek’s favorite rag-tag group of teenagers. And is that cake I see? Why, is it someone’s birthday?” he asked, raising his eyebrows at Derek in mock surprise. Derek growled menacingly, still glaring at Stiles, but Peter reached around behind him to push the door further open.

“Come in, come in, wouldn’t want the food to get cold, now would we?” he asked charmingly, obviously relishing in Derek’s discomfort. Whatever Stiles would take it. The rest of the pack pushed in, while Stiles stood stuck in a glaring contest with Derek. Once everyone else was in, Stiles sidled around the grumpy werewolf, shooting Peter a grateful glance in the process. The look Peter offered back was entirely too knowing and amused. Stiles decided to ignore it in favor of grabbing Derek by the arm and dragging him toward where the pack was setting up pizza and paper plates on the table.

After the initial awkwardness, the evening went pretty smoothly, actually. The pack gathered noisily around the pizza, joking and shoving. After they ate, Stiles corralled them all to sing Happy Birthday to Derek, presenting him with the grocery store cake complete with candles that Allison had gotten. Derek rolled his eyes and heaved a put-upon sigh, but Stiles could tell he was secretly pleased. 

“What movie did you get, Erica?” Scott asked loudly.

“Movie?” Derek asked, seeming resigned to his fate.

“ _Captain America: Civil War”_ Erica replied, brandishing the redbox case. “Boyd picked it.” Stiles didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

There was a chorus of cheers from several of the pack, and everyone rushed to stake a claim on the couch, chairs, and floor. Stiles found himself sandwiched between Derek and Scott on the couch, Allison on Scott’s other side. He didn’t remember making a conscious effort to sit by Derek, but he wasn’t complaining.

“Ever seen this?” he managed to ask nonchalantly.

“Nope, must’ve missed it,” Derek replied.

“You’ll like it,” Stiles told him. Derek looked at him and raised an eyebrow at the knowing tone of his voice, but Stiles just shushed him since the movie was starting.

He was right of course; Derek was invested in the movie from the beginning. Stiles had seen it enough times by now, that he actually spent most of the movie hyper-aware of Derek, enjoying his reactions. Halfway through, Derek laughed at some line of Tony's, and it was all Stiles could do not to turn and stare. Derek didn't seem to even notice as he slid his arm across the back of the couch. Sure, he wasn't actually  _touching_ Stiles, but it was enough to send butterflies dancing in Stiles' stomach. He sunk a little lower, hoping Derek didn't notice him leaning a little into his side.

 

oOo

 

After the movie, various teenagers started making their excuses and filing out. Scott took Allison so they could meet her dad’s strict curfew, Jackson and Lydia left together, and Erica claimed a craving for froyo and dragged Isaac and Boyd with her. Stiles had barely stood up, however, before Derek had snagged his collar.

“Nope. I’m assuming this was your idea, so you get to help with the clean up,” Derek said decidedly. Stiles rolled his eyes.

“Untwist your panties, sourwolf, I was going to offer anyway,” he informed him. He had noticed Peter had slipped away some time before the movie, and he was hardly going to leave the birthday boy to clean up after his own party, alone. Derek nodded in satisfaction, then began rounding up plastic cups. Stiles went to find a trash bag to start shoving pizza boxes into.

They worked in silence for several minutes, before Derek piped up in a quiet voice, as if he hated to break the silence but couldn’t keep the thought in.

“Devon would have been 12 next week.”

Stiles swallowed around the sudden wave of emotion. He was overcome with images of Devon, fighting with Derek in the yard, begging his mom to let him hunt alone because he was _finally_ big enough.

“Yeah. Yeah, he would’ve,” Stiles said simply, throat hurting. It still didn’t seem real to him sometimes, didn’t seem possible that all those people were just…gone. Devon wouldn’t turn 12 next week. He would never be older than the 4-year-old he was when the fire happened.

“Is that why you haven’t celebrated your birthday?” he asked, their conversation staying hushed in spite of the fact it was just the two of them.

“It’s part of it,” Derek said, “That, and I haven’t really had anyone to celebrate with.”

Stiles stopped and turned to look at him. “You do now.”

They just regarded each other for a moment. Then Derek just gave him the tiniest nod, and Stiles counted that as a major win.

“Now, what do you want to do with the rest of this cake? Think it’ll get eaten around here?”

“Yeah, Isaac might eat some. Or maybe Peter will eat it when he thinks no one will notice.” Stiles laughed at that mental image, and Derek smirked as he turned back to wiping pizza grease off the table.

Finally, everything was clean and Stiles had no more excuses to stay, so he headed for the door.

“Well, I guess I’m gonna head home,” he said, rocking on his heels and shoving his hands in his hoodie pocket. They were met with the crinkling of paper. 

“Oh, wait! I almost forgot!” he exclaimed, brandishing the gift that he’d had in his pocket the whole time. He unceremoniously shoved it at Derek. “Happy Birthday!” 

Derek just blinked at it for a moment before taking it gingerly. He turned it over in his hands slowly, and Stiles flushed a little at his own shoddy wrapping job. Whatever, wrapping presents well took patience, which no one had ever accused Stiles of having. Derek looked up again.

“You didn’t need to get me anything,” he protested weakly.

“Of course I did, what’s a birthday without presents?” Derek just stared at the gift some more, and Stiles huffed. “Well, the actual present is _inside_ the paper; you’re supposed to take that part off,” he instructed sarcastically. That earned him a glare, but Derek did actually start to unwrap it then.

“ _Death of a Bachelor_ ,” Derek read. Then he squinted at Stiles “Panic at the Disco? Isn’t that that old emo band?”

“Trust me,” Stiles grinned. “You’ll love it.” Derek hummed noncommittally, and turned the album over to look at the track list. Then he looked at Stiles again.

“Uh, thank you,” he said awkwardly.

“No problem, man. I don’t know if anyone actually uses physical CD’s anymore, but I figured if anyone did-“

“Not just for the CD,” Derek interrupted. “For…all of this.” He gestured vaguely at the apartment behind him, which Stiles figured was meant to encompass the whole party.

“Oh,” he said. “Of course. I kind of thought maybe we could do this kind of thing more often?”

“What, birthday parties?” Derek asked, clearly confused. Stiles chuckled.

“No, well yeah, I mean for birthdays, but I was thinking other times too. Like, just have pack nights, bond, that kind of thing. Maybe not only be a team when something’s trying to kill us. Who knows, maybe that’ll actually even make us a better team when something _is_ trying to kill us. Not that that’s why I think it’s a good idea! I mean, it is a good idea, but also I just think-“

“Stiles,” Derek mercifully interrupted again, stepping closer. “I…I would like that.”

“Yeah?” Stiles asked hopefully. 

“Yeah,” Derek said with the smallest smile in the whole world. But Stiles would take it.

“Okay, then. Okay,” he sighed in relief. He figured convincing Derek would be the hard part, but that was surprisingly easy. 

He looked up again and noticed just how close he and Derek were standing. Which really shouldn’t be that big a deal after sharing a bed for several nights, but…well, it’s not like Stiles could _control_ his heart rate. Which was definitely going a little faster. And Derek had noticed, going by the confused quirk of his eyebrow and amused tilt of his lips. His lips. Shit, now Stiles had been staring at him for too long, and was thinking about his lips, and-

“Stiles.” Thank God for Derek and his perfect timing with interruptions today.

“Yeah?” Stiles replied, only a _little_ hoarsely, thank you very much.

“Good night,” Derek said, raising his eyebrows.

“Good night?” Stiles repeated stupidly. Then, “Oh, right! I should go! I’ve got…things to do tomorrow! Lots of things! But…I’ll text you? About pack nights?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Derek replied, still looking both confused and amused. Confusedly amused.

“Okay, well…bye!” Stiles blurted, and scampered out the door before Derek could reply. Smooth, Stilinski, smooth.

Final awkwardness notwithstanding, Stiles considered the evening a smashing success. He even allowed himself a little fist-pump once he was safely in his jeep. Next step: make pack bonding a regular thing. Oh, and get these stupid twitterpated feelings under control. He didn’t want to ruin all his hard work by making Derek uncomfortable with his stupid feelings. He sighed and glanced up at the still-lit windows of the loft. Yeah, get his emotions under control.

But, god, he missed him.


	10. Never Have I Ever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here ya go! Update with plot progression!
> 
> As always, un-beta'd, any mistakes are my own.
> 
> I'm not sure yet exactly how long this fic is going to be, but I'm thinking a few more chapters. We'll see!
> 
> Thank you guys so much for reading and leaving such lovely comments on my winding, roller-coaster of a story! I appreciate you guys so much, sharing writing is scary.
> 
> Enjoy =)

The next morning, Stiles' dad knocked on his door before coming in with a few envelopes in hand. Familiar envelopes.

“Hey, kiddo. These came while you were…gone. I forgot about them until just now, but I figure you probably need to answer them soon.”

Stiles took the college acceptance letters with some trepidation; just because the other him had been smart enough to get in to all those schools didn’t mean- but, yes, there was the familiar, large envelope with the Stanford crest on the return label.

He opened it nervously. It looked the same, but that didn’t mean he’d still gotten in. He pulled out the papers, reading carefully, and-

“Yes!” he cried, fist pumping as he snatched up the letter and let the others fall to the floor.

“Stanford?” John asked excitedly.

“Stanford! I’m going to Stanford!” Stiles cheered, doing a little dance around his room, then being pulled in to a hug by his father.

“That's fantastic! I’m so proud of you, son! This calls for pancakes,” he announced, “Put some clothes on, we’re going to Mel’s.” 

Stiles grinned hugely and nodded his agreement.

 

oOo

 

As soon as he and his dad got back from their celebratory breakfast, Stiles started shooting off texts telling his friends the good news. After some deliberation, he included a text to Derek.

_Stiles: Looks like you won’t completely be getting rid of me! I got in to Stanford!_

Not long later, he got a reply that was as succinct as he should have expected. Still, he couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed.

_Derek: Congrats_

Stiles stared at that one word for a long time, lost in thought. He remembered how difficult the decision had been the first time around, how he hadn’t been sure where he would be by the fall. He clearly remembered every word alt!Derek had said.

That had been the conversation where alt!Derek had told him he wasn’t his. Where he’d said that if any part of this Derek was like him, he wanted Stiles. 

Could that be true? Stiles just didn’t see it. He didn’t want to give himself false hope but…who would know Derek’s feelings better than another version of himself? 

He sighed and threw himself back on the bed. Regardless what Derek felt, Stiles knew one thing: his own feelings hadn’t faded since he’d returned. He didn’t think they were going anywhere any time soon.

 

oOo

 

Stiles was proud of himself. He waited all the way until _Monday_ before seeking out Derek again.

After school, he tried to distract himself with his mountains of makeup homework (most of which was just annoying because he _had_ actually already done it, but that didn’t mean he had the answers memorized.) That worked for a little over an hour before he found himself once again just staring out the window, chewing on his pen, and wondering if Derek had listened to the CD he gave him. 

Finally, he sighed and threw his pen down. He threw a random pile of the school work into his backpack, and went to see Derek.

He was a little apprehensive as he knocked on the door. What if he wasn’t welcome? What if Derek was out? Who knew if he actually did something with his life, other than push-ups and waiting for the next crisis.

But Derek opened the door on the first knock.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, in his typical, no-nonsense way.

“Um, visiting?” Stiles tried, rocking on his heels.

“Why?” Derek asked. He seemed genuinely confused, but not that annoyed. That seemed like a good sign.

“Do I need a reason?” Stiles asked, pushing past him into the loft. He dropped his backpack unceremoniously by the couch, then spied a familiar box by the entertainment center.

“Aha!” he cried, marching over and holding the empty CD case aloft. “I knew it! You love it, don’t you! Do you listen to it while you’re doing your fifty million sit-ups? I bet you sing along while you’re mopping the floors. Wait, you do mop the floors, right? And, no, your sweat from your workouts isn’t enough to keep this place clean.”

“I’ve only had it two days,” Derek protested, snatching the case from Stiles. “Hardly enough time to be singing along. But, yeah, it’s pretty good. And yes, I mop. Or I make Peter do it.”

“Wow. Can’t picture Peter doing something as mundane as mopping,” Stiles said, trying in vain to visualize it. Nope. 

“Well, he does,” Derek replied. He put his CD case back on the entertainment center, then straightened up and turned to face Stiles with an expectant look. Stiles just stared back, unsure what Derek was expecting.

“Well?” Derek asked after a moment.

“Well, what?” Stiles frowned. Derek rolled his eyes.

“Well, are you going to tell me why you’re here?”

“Oh! I don’t know, I was doing homework and got bored. Just…a change of scenery, you know?” Stiles explained weakly, waving his arms to encompass the loft.

“So, you’re here to do homework?” Derek clarified.

“Um, I guess,” Stiles replied, suddenly unsure of himself again. “If that’s okay?” 

Derek stared at him for a minute, seemingly trying to decide if he was telling the truth. He must have decided that he was, because he just shrugged and nodded his head toward the coffee table. That was probably the best invitation Stiles was going to get, so he hurried back over to his backpack and pulled out the Calculus worksheet he had been working on. To his pleased surprise, Derek just went and got his laptop and sat at the other end of the couch from Stiles.

They sat in silence for a while, Stiles working his way through the familiar math problems and Derek doing god knows what on his laptop. Once he finished the worksheet, Stiles sat back, contemplating what project to tackle next. His mind wandered, though, and soon he realized he was staring at an unamused looking werewolf, who was frowning back at him.

“What?” Derek asked.

“Can I ask you something?” 

“Lack of permission has never seemed to stop you,” Derek observed dryly, turning back to his laptop.

“Okay, that’s true,” Stiles agreed, “But this is personal. You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.” That got Derek’s attention. He turned back to Stiles and eyed him warily.

“Okay,” he said slowly.

“What did you and Laura do, after- you know, after?” he asked. “I mean, where did you go?” Derek was silent for a long moment, long enough for Stiles to start to panic, thinking he’d ruined everything, but then-

“New York.”

“Oh.” Huh. Not what Stiles had expected somehow. “Why New York?”

“Laura picked it. We knew we wanted to get far away, and we were two young werewolves without a pack. A large city seemed like our safest bet, since there are so many people that packs don’t choose to settle or claim territory there and it’s relatively safe from hunters. We could blend in there.” Derek explained factually. Stiles nodded, deciding whether to continue to press his luck.

“So, you were there, what, five years? What did you do there?” he asked. Derek shrugged.

“I finished high school, then started college. As soon as I turned 18, I got a job with movers for spending money, but we didn’t have to worry much because of insurance money. Laura worked at a little coffee shop,” Derek said the last bit with a wistful smile. “She loved that little place.”

“Yeah,” Stiles agreed quietly, picturing a smiling Laura running _Hunting Grounds_ along with Danica. Derek and Stiles shared a companionable silence for a few moments, each lost in their own memories. Then Stiles turned to Derek again.

“What were you going to school for?” he asked curiously.

“I was double-majoring, English and business,” Derek informed him. “I only had one year to go.”

“Dude, that’s nothing! You should finish it!” Stiles exclaimed.

“And do what?” Derek asked sardonically.

“Anything! A business degree is super useful, you could start your own business! What do you want to do?” 

Derek looked down and was quiet again for a long moment before he spoke.

“Laura and I…we had always talked about opening up our own bookstore/coffee shop. That’s why I was getting the degree. She knew coffee, and I knew books, so we thought- it doesn’t really matter now.” Derek shook his head. Stiles couldn’t stop himself from laying a comforting hand on his arm.

“Of course it matters,” he told him. Derek looked at him. “It all matters. She mattered.”

He held Derek’s gaze, trying to make sure Derek was really hearing him. Derek nodded slowly, and Stiles decided it was time to lighten the mood.

“So,” he said, clapping hands together suddenly. “Are you hungry? I’m starved. What’s the nearest place that delivers?”

 

oOo

 

After that, Stiles assumed he had an open invitation to just show up after school, backpack in tow. Derek didn’t question him after that first day, just grunted and nodded him into the living room like the caveman Stiles had always suspected he was. 

He decided to be careful to only go to Derek’s when he knew his dad was at work, though. He wasn’t ready for another ‘what’s going on with you and Derek’ conversation with him. Well a first one with this Dad. Whatever.

The third day, he was surprised when their peace was interrupted by Peter coming down the stairs and heading straight for the kitchen. Stiles turned to Derek, but he seemed unsurprised by his uncle’s appearance. So Stiles, of course, got up to investigate.

He walked around the island into the kitchen area to find Peter…chopping on onion?

“What are you doing?” he asked. 

“Chopping an onion,” Peter informed him without looking up from his task.

“Yes, thank you, I can see that,” Stiles huffed.

“Then why did you ask?”

“Okay, _why_ are you chopping an onion?”

“For the chicken spaghetti.”

“I- you- what?” Stiles frowned in confusion. Peter raised an eyebrow and pointed at Stiles with the knife, which wasn’t unsettling at all.

“Man cannot live on takeout alone,” Peter said sagely. 

“So…you’re making chicken spaghetti,” Stiles surmised. Peter hummed in agreement and went back to chopping. 

“Is it Julie’s recipe?” he asked suddenly, then wondered if it was physically possible to _actually_ fit his foot in his mouth. He could _feel_ Derek stiffen on the couch behind him. But Peter just looked at him for a moment.

“Yes,” he said, finally. 

“Sweet. She made the best chicken spaghetti,” Stiles said, because he’d come this far.

“Yes. Yes, she did,” Peter replied. Then, to Stiles shock, he _smiled_ at him. Not menacingly or creepily, but _warmly_. Stiles stared back in shock, but Peter just went back to his vegetables, unbothered by the lack of response. Stiles whipped around to make sure he wasn’t crazy, but Derek was turned half around on the sofa and looked as bewildered as Stiles felt. 

Stiles went and sat back on the couch stiffly.

“Does he usually do this?” he asked out of the corner of his mouth.

“Werewolf hearing,” Peter reminded him, sing-song.

“Nope,” Derek answered anyway, still half turned on the couch. Then he met Stiles eyes, shrugged again, and turned back to his work.

Okay, then.

 

oOo

 

Stiles was right, Julie’s chicken spaghetti recipe was the best, although it was missing something without her there to make it. At Peter’s insistence, they actually ate at the table. Stiles was kinda surprised Derek went along with that, but he was probably loathe to do anything to dampen Peter’s good, if a bit domestic, mood. The three of them didn’t talk a whole lot as they ate, but it wasn’t necessarily awkward.

After dinner, Stiles offered to help clean up. As he began rinsing dishes, Peter asked Derek to take out the trash, which Derek did without question. It wasn’t until Peter sidled up next to him at the sink and stared at him thoughtfully that Stiles realized he was alone with a historically unstable werewolf. The thought didn’t bother him as much as it probably should have.

“You’re no longer afraid of me,” Peter observed, as if reading his mind. Stiles just shrugged, unsure if this observation was good or bad in Peter’s mind. Peter watched him for another moment, then sighed and looked away.

“It’s a bit confusing, you know,” he said thoughtfully. Stiles took the bait.

“What’s confusing?” he asked.

“You know that werewolves, like our animal counterpart, rely heavily on our sense of smell. It’s how we tell friend from foe, family from stranger,” Peter turned to look at him again with the last sentence, his gaze thoughtful like before. Stiles met his eyes, waiting for him to continue.

“When you came back covered in the scent of family, your scent became entwined with theirs. It has sort of tricked Derek’s senses, and mine as well I suppose, to associate the scent of you with that of home,” Peter explained, as if lecturing on a particularly fascinating phenomena. Stiles stiffened a little, unsure if he was being accused of something.

“Okay…,” he said slowly. “So, what does that mean?”

“I can’t be sure but I think perhaps this…spirit had more in mind than a lesson for you. I think she thought it was time that Derek, and perhaps myself by extension, let someone in,” Peter said. He stared at him again, then hummed interestedly. Stiles was quiet, turning that over in his head. It seemed plausible.

Apparently done with the conversation, Peter pushed away from the counter and headed for the stairs. At the last second though, he turned back around. 

“Oh, and Stiles? We are often not sensitive to our own scents, but don’t think that it escaped _my_ notice that after your little trip you smelled most strongly like our Derek. At first I thought it was only because he had been around you so much since your return, but…that’s not the whole truth, is it?”

Stiles gaped at him, scrambling in his mind to find an excuse that wouldn’t come across as a lie, but before he could find one Peter just smirked and continued up the stairs.

 

oOo

 

It wasn’t until the following Tuesday that their domestic little bubble was interrupted. Stiles had spent the weekend mostly at home and gaming with Scott, but on Monday he’d returned to his habit of going to Derek’s every day to work on homework.

That afternoon, he was sprawled out on the couch surrounded by his work, and feeling impressed with himself for the progress he was making on the ‘make-up’ work. Derek was on the recliner, tapping away on his laptop as usual. Suddenly, Stiles’ phone vibrated.

_Scott: Bored, wyd?_

_Homework_ Stiles replied honestly.

_Scott: need help? or a break?_

Stiles looked at Derek.

“What?” Derek asked without looking up.

“Can I invite Scott over?” Stiles asked. He’d forced his own welcome, but he wasn’t sure if inviting other people would be too much. Derek, though, just shrugged.

“Sure.”

_at Derek’s, come over_ , Stiles typed quickly.

“What are you doing, anyway?” he asked Derek, while he waited for Scott to reply.

“What do you mean?” Derek asked.

“On your laptop. What are you doing all the time?” It hadn’t occurred to Stiles to ask before, but now it had been a solid week and he had no clue what Derek could possibly be working on. To his surprise Derek’s ears reddened and he ducked his head.

“Applications,” he said, quietly enough that Stiles barely caught it.

“What kind of applications? Like jobs?”

“No, schools. I’m applying to finish my degree online,” Derek shrugged, trying to play it off like it wasn’t a big deal. 

“Dude! That’s awesome!” Stiles cried, moving to sit on the arm of Derek’s chair and peer over his shoulder at the screen. He expected Derek to move over and make room, but instead Derek stayed where he was, so Stiles basically had no choice but to put his arm across the back of the chair. It was a much more intimate position than Stiles had been aiming for, but he wasn’t complaining. And, interestingly, neither was Derek. In fact, if he wasn't mistaken, it almost seemed like Derek was leaning  _in_ to Stiles' warmth.

“What do you have to send in?” Stiles questioned.

“Mostly copies of my transcripts. I’ve been researching which schools have the best online programs, so I’m sending applications to ASU and SNHU,” Derek replied.

“Nineteenth century British Literature,” Stiles read off Derek’s past classes on the screen. “Big Jane Austen fan, are you? I bet Mr. Darcy is your role model. Oh my god that makes so much sense!”

Derek pushed him off the chair. Stiles scowled up at him from the floor, but was distracted when his phone buzzed.

_Scott: ooo what r u and derek doing? ;)_

Stiles felt his face heat up, and felt Derek turn to look at him questioningly. He should have known he would rue the day he told Scott about his thing with alt!Derek. 

_HOMEWORK_ >=[ , he typed back and hit send. 

He pushed himself off the floor and headed back to his spot on the couch, ignoring Derek’s stare. Over the back of the couch, he saw Peter puttering around in the kitchen. He turned back to his phone.

_Stiles: Plus, I think peter’s making breakfast for dinner_

_Scott: peter cooks???_

_Stiles: pretty well, actually_

_Scott: omw_

 

oOo

 

Dinner was a little different with the addition of Scott. He was clearly a little weirded out by the whole situation, but he gamely sat at the table with them and ate Peter’s homemade waffles, bacon, and eggs.

“I was thinking that we should have another pack movie night this weekend,” Stiles announced at the table. Everyone was quiet for a moment, staring at him.

“I think that’s a wonderful idea, Stiles,” Peter said, glancing briefly at Derek and continuing to cut his waffle into precise bites.

“You do?” Stiles asked, surprised at the support.

“Yes. I think if we’re all meant to be some sort of pack, we might as well try to act like it,” Peter said. “Although, I can’t promise I’ll be there the whole time. There’s only so much bonding with teenagers I can possibly take."

“Right,” Stiles nodded. He looked at the other two. “Right, yes. What he said. Well, the first part.”

“Are you sure? I mean, I don’t know if everyone will be down for that,” Scott said hesitantly.

“Even if not everyone can come, we should try!,” Stiles pleaded. “Right, Derek?”

“It’s fine with me,” Derek said slowly.

“Awesome! So, Friday!,” he said.

“Friday,” Scott agreed, still a bit reluctant. Whatever. Stiles would take it.

 

oOo

 

Friday was another success, or at least Stiles thought so as he looked around at the pack chowing down on pizza around Derek’s loft. Despite Scott’s concerns, everyone had agreed easily enough, even Lydia and Jackson deigning to give up another Friday night for the pack. Stiles couldn’t help but wonder if some part of the bitten wolves craved this, bonding with their pack.

He knew the born wolves did. Peter was by the window, in conversation with Boyd about something or other. Derek sat on the couch, mostly observing, but Stiles was familiar enough with the nuances of Derek by now that he could tell he was more relaxed. He went and plopped himself next to Derek and leaned his head back against the couch.

“Having fun, sourwolf?” he asked. Derek grunted.

“Sure, a bunch of teenagers getting pizza grease all over everything I own is my favorite pastime.” Derek replied sarcastically. Stiles just grinned and nudged him with a knee.

“Don’t try to lie to me. I know you’re loving this,” he informed him. Derek shot him a half-smile in return. 

“Friday nights were always pizza nights for us,” Derek told him, the sadness creeping in that always did when Derek mentioned his family.

“I know,” Stiles replied quietly. “I was there for a few of them. We could keep that tradition going, you know, if you want to.”

Derek didn’t answer, but just turned to meet Stiles’ eyes. He looked sad, and grateful, and a whole world of things that Stiles wanted to sit there and figure out. He knew he could never replace Derek’s family or make it better for him, god how he knew that, but he just wanted to give him what he needed. Family, love, acceptance. Those were things he didn’t know how to offer, not with words. 

His and Derek’s silent gaze was broken by Erica suddenly standing up and raising her voice loud enough to grab everyone’s attention.

“I don’t feel like watching a movie tonight,” she announced.

“Then what do you want to do?” Scott asked.

“I think we should play games. Like party games,” she told them gleefully.

“That could be fun,” Lydia agreed from where she and Allison had wandered over. “Too bad we don’t have any alcohol.”

“Oh ye of little faith,” Isaac intoned, reaching over to his back to pull out two bottles of tequila.

“What’s the point of that? Werewolves can’t get drunk,” Stiles argued.

“They can if you put in just enough wolfsbane to counteract the healing,” Derek said suspiciously. 

“Which is exactly what Deaton told me when I asked,” Isaac said, “for purely academic purposes, of course.” 

The conversation devolved into everyone patting Isaac on the back and asking him questions. Turned out that one of the bottles had the wolfsbane already mixed in, while the other Isaac had saved for the humans. Derek rolled his eyes, but didn’t complain or tell them to stop, so they all took that as his blessing. Eventually, they formed a loose circle around the coffee table, a shot glass in front of each of them. Derek, though, had gotten up when they started pouring shots.

“Come on, Derek,” Erica had whined, but Derek just shook his head.

“Someone here needs to stay sober,” he told them, “I’m collecting keys, and no one who drinks is driving home tonight.” 

True to his word, he came back a moment later with a bowl and made them all drop their keys in it. Then he started collecting pizza boxes, while they decided what game to play.

“How about never have I ever?” Allison suggested. Stiles groaned. That game usually devolved into ‘call out the virgins’, his least favorite game. He never stood a chance, though, because that moment Peter rejoined the conversation from wherever he’d been lurking.

“That one is actually fun with werewolves. Our ability to tell when people are lying applies to that game, because their heart rate spikes when they don’t take a drink that they should.”

“Yes! We have to play,” Isaac said excitedly.

“I’ll start with an easy one,” Lydia offered. “Never have I ever…played lacrosse.”

Everyone groaned as pretty much every guy in the room took a shot. Allison laughed and leaned over and offered Lydia a high-five, and Peter settled himself in the recliner to observe. Stiles had a feeling he was going to regret this.

A few rounds in, it had been discovered that Lydia, Jackson, and Allison were the most well-traveled; Allison was the most adventurous; and Stiles, Boyd, and Erica were the virgins. That last one was interesting, because everyone knew Boyd and Erica were good friends and had been dancing around each other, but no one had known for sure if they were actually secretly together.

“I call bullshit,” Jackson said, because he was an asshole like that.

“Listen to my heart, see if I’m lying,” Erica challenged him, “Never have I ever so much as made out with anyone in this room.”

Stiles vaguely realized just how incestuous his little group was as almost everyone groaned and took a shot, but it was through a wave of his own panic. The problem was, he kind of _had_ made out with someone in the room. Crap, why did Derek have to be sitting on his laptop at the kitchen table, directly in Stiles’ sightline? Did the kiss count if it wasn’t even in this reality? Did that count as a lie?

Apparently his body felt like it did, because as everyone began to put down their shot glasses they were turning to stare at him in variations of surprise and confusion.

Shit. Shit shit shit.

“No way. Who here made out with Stilinski?” Jackson piped up. Stiles wanted to punch him. Everyone began to exchange confused glances.

“Well, he’s clearly hiding _something,”_ Erica pointed out, gaze sharpening. “Out with it, Stiles. Who did you make out with?”

“It’s not- I mean it wasn’t-“, Stiles spluttered, running an agitated hand through his hair. He’d already had enough shots that his brain was fuzzy; he couldn’t think of how to get himself out of this.

“It wasn’t here,” Lydia surmised, tilting her head and narrowing her eyes.

“The plot thickens,” Peter said amusedly from his chair.

It was at Lydia’s words, though, that Stiles made his mistake. In the fog of alcohol and fear, he lost control of his traitorous eyes, and they immediately shot to Derek. Derek who had stopped pretending to pay attention to his laptop and was piercing Stiles with a penetrating gaze. When Stiles looked at him, Derek’s eyes widened and his fists clenched.

“ _Oh my god,”_ Stiles heard whispered into the hushed silence around him. Then he knew he had given himself away.

“Derek?!?” Isaac asked incredulously. That broke the silence, and the air filled with the whole pack’s exclamations and questions. Stiles, though, couldn’t tear his eyes away from Derek’s. Derek, who stared back in apparent shock. Stiles couldn’t tell what else was there though; what else he thought about that. Was he disgusted? Happy?

Suddenly, Derek clenched his jaw and stood. Breaking Stiles’ gaze, he strode straight to the front door, slid it open with force, and was gone. So that was it. He was pissed. He probably felt disgusted and angry, and Stiles had ruined all the good he’d been trying to do.

Stiles abruptly realized that the room around him had quietened again as he stared at the now closed door.

“Stiles? You okay, bro?” Scott asked kindly, suddenly right beside him. It wasn’t until Stiles tried to look at him that he realized his vision was blurry. He didn’t want to be there.

“Yeah, um-“ he began, pushing himself to his feet and swiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. He didn’t want to look around and see what anyone else thought of this. “I think I’m just-,” he indicated vaguely toward the door, trying to ignore the head rush from the alcohol and standing so suddenly.

“Whoa, dude, you shouldn’t be driving,” Scott protested standing with him, and promptly stumbling with him.

“I’ll take him.” Peter was suddenly at his elbow, holding the bowl of keys. Scott eyed him warily.

“Are you sure?” he asked; it was unclear whether he was talking to Peter or Stiles, so Stiles took it upon himself to answer.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s fine,” Stiles assured him, fishing through the bowl until he found his keys to hand to Peter. “Let’s go,” and he headed for the door without another look back.

 

oOo

 

The car ride seemed endless and Stiles stared out the window and tried to suppress his whirling emotions. Peter was mercifully quiet the whole time, leaving Stiles to his thoughts.

When they got to his house, they both got out of the jeep and Peter turned to run back the way they had come. Before he left though, he cleared his throat to capture Stiles' attention one last time.

“Stiles, as I told you once before, I think perhaps the spirit had more plans than those she shared with you. We may never know." Peter leveled him with a meaningful gaze, and finished cryptically, "All you can do now is be honest.” Then he turned and vanished into the night.

Stiles swallowed as he slowly headed into the house. Honesty. As far as he could tell, that’s what had gotten him into this mess.


	11. Confrontations and Explanations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eeek I'm sorry I'm testing you guys' patience so much! Here is the much-awaited next chapter!
> 
> In other news, let the sexy times commence! I marked this fic as E from the start, so don't say you weren't warned. I've never written smut before, though, so feedback is welcome!
> 
> I love you guys so much, and I'm glad you've loved this story with me. Still not sure how long it's going to be...we'll see where the muse takes me.
> 
> As usual, un-beta'd, any mistakes are my own.
> 
> Enjoy!

Stiles spent the weekend wallowing in guilt and self-pity, as one does. He hoped against hope that Derek would show up at his window, or at least text him, but it never happened.

School was an awkward experience. Scott and Allison kept watching him with these worried, pitying looks, while Isaac and Erica were clearly trying to hide their amusement and curiosity with the whole situation. Lydia, for some reason, kept huffing and rolling her eyes at him.

So, what resulted was an awkward silence among the pack that lasted until Tuesday at lunch, at which point Erica finally burst.

“Oh my god, I’m sorry, but I have to know what happened,” she demanded.

“Erica!” Allison hissed, kicking her under the table. 

“No, seriously! You and _Derek?_ How did that happen? Did you guys have sex?”

“No, we did not have sex,” Stiles glared at her. “We just…we kind of dated. And made out. And that’s it.”

“I can’t picture Derek on a date,” Isaac mused.

“Well, it happened,” Stiles snapped. “Besides, that Derek was…he was different, in some ways.”

“Is that why you liked him? Because he was different?” Allison asked gently.

“No, it wasn’t…I mean, he wasn’t- look, they’re the same person, ok? The other Derek just hadn’t been through as much. He wasn’t as hard to read. But it’s not like they’re completely different people.”

“So, then, you want to date Derek now?” Isaac surmised. Stiles felt his face redden.

“I don’t- I mean, it’s not-“ he spluttered. Looking around at the faces carefully watching him, though, he could tell they already knew the answer. God, how humiliating. He swallowed and looked down at his lunch. “It doesn’t matter,” he muttered. He grabbed his tray and walked away, trying to ignore the whispered conversations going on behind him.

 

oOo

 

That afternoon, he was lying on his bed looking at his housing options at Stanford when his door burst open.

“Stiles Stilinski,” Lydia said angrily.

“Uh, visitor, son. I’ll just-“ John said from the door behind her. Then he pursed his lips and nodded, pulling the door to. Stiles sat up, frowning confusedly at the fuming redhead.

“You’re a lot of things, Stiles, but I _know_ you’re not a coward,” she told him, hands on her hips.

“Um, thanks?” Stiles tried, not sure where her ire was coming from.

“So why the hell are you moping around like a kicked puppy? Why aren’t you banging on the door of the loft and demanding that Derek talk to you? We are supposed to be a _pack_ , Stilinski, and I’m pretty sure it’s _you_ who’s been trying to make us act like one lately. Was that all because you wanted in Derek’s pants?” she demanded.

“What? No!” Stiles protested.

“So, what, you’re going to let your little lover’s spat put us right back where we were before? Did that stupid fairy’s lesson not sink in for you at all? Go talk to him!”

“Lydia, it’s not that simple,” Stiles groaned, throwing himself back on the bed.

“The hell it isn’t,” she disagreed, but her tone had quietened somewhat, more exasperated than pissed. She came to sit beside him on the bed. “You have to tell him how you feel. The two of you have to get past this so that the pack can get past this.”

“How I _feel_ doesn’t matter. I mean, did you see his face? And the way he stormed out of there?”

“What I saw was an emotionally constipated man who doesn’t like being blindsided. You probably should have talked to him before hand so that he didn’t find out like that, but I guess that’s water under the bridge now,” Lydia sighed.

“He probably hates me. He’s probably disgusted by the thought of any version of him kissing me,” Stiles muttered. Lydia snorted.

“I highly doubt that,” she told him with a smirk.

“What does that mean?” Stiles asked.

“It _means_ you need to go talk to him. You might be surprised by the outcome,” Lydia said, standing and sashaying toward the door. “But either way, you need to figure this out Stiles. Don’t let all the progress you’ve made be for nothing,” she offered, with a surprisingly encouraging little smile. Then she flounced out the door and was gone.

Stiles lay there and stared at the ceiling, lost in thought. Before long, he heard a gentle knock on his door before his dad pushed it open.

“Everything okay, kiddo?” he asked. 

“Yeah, Dad, it’s just…it’s nothing,” Stiles sighed.

“This about Derek?” John asked, leaning against the door frame and crossing him arms. Stiles whipped his head up to look at him, eyes wide. John rolled his eyes.

“I’m not blind, son,” he informed him. “Don’t think I missed how you two looked at each other after you came back. I was willing to allow the sleepovers under those circumstances, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to be ok with him spending the night here regularly. You may be eighteen, but you’re still in school and still under my roof. I expect you in your room, _alone_ , by ten o’clock on school nights.” 

“But, Dad, we’re not even together! Nothing is happening!” Stiles protested, dumbfounded. John frowned at him.

“Well, why not?” When Stiles didn’t have a reply, John just sighed and shook his head. “Well, now you know the rules,” he said with a pointed look. He pushed away from the door and headed downstairs.

 

oOo

 

An hour later, Stiles sat in his jeep staring up at the loft and trying to muster up the courage to at least get _out_ of his jeep. This was ridiculous, what’s the worst that could happen?

Abject rejection, utter humiliation, being asked not to come to pack meetings anymore…okay, so things could get pretty bad. But as he sat there, he thought of the things alt!Derek had told him; how confident he’d been that this Derek wanted Stiles. He though of the promise he’d made to Laura, that he’d take care of Derek and be there for him _no matter what._ Lydia was right, he _had_ to do this. He took a deep breath, nodded to himself, and stepped out onto the pavement. 

He reached the door to the building, though, just in time to see Peter coming in the opposite direction. Peter quirked an eyebrow at him.

“All yours,” he sing-songed as he brushed past him, heading toward the woods behind the building. Stiles swallowed and kept going.

When he finally reached the sliding door to the loft, he hesitated for just a second before reaching out and knocking timidly. There was not answer for a long moment, and Stiles rocked on his feet and considered making a run for it. Then, finally, the door slid open.

Stiles felt his heart pounding nervously as Derek just stood there looking at him, face impassive.

“Stiles,” Derek said in greeting, still giving nothing away as he stepped back to let Stiles in.

“Hey, big guy,” Stiles returned, aiming for a bravado he didn’t feel. It fell flat.

Awkward silence reigned for several long minutes. Both of them seemed to be trying to look anywhere but at each other, neither sure how to begin. Finally, Stiles cleared his throat.

“Look, I- I should probably apologize,” he began, staring at his shoes.

“Apologize?” Derek questioned, a little surprised.

“Yeah, you know, for not telling you anything and letting you find out like that. And for- you know, in the first place, for-,” Stiles stalled out a little. He knew he probably owed Derek an apology for dating the other version of him in the first place, but he kept tripping over the lie. He wasn’t sorry for that. Derek, thankfully, took pity on him.

“You don’t have to apologize for that,” he told him, matter-of-fact. Stiles snapped his eyes up to meet Derek’s.

“I don’t?” Stiles asked, trying not to let the hope creep in to his voice.

“No, I get it,” Derek replied, voice monotone. Stiles blinked at him in confusion. Derek looked away again. “You were in another place, it was like meeting someone new. I mean, he must have been pretty different from me. Not as much baggage. I understand why you’d want to date him.”

“No, that’s not- what?” Stiles stuttered, still confused.

“I mean, he had everything, his family, his pack, a career; why wouldn’t you want to be with him?” Derek said, his voice still flat but hard. Then he sighed and seemed to release some of the tension. “I’m sorry, it must have made it even more difficult to come back to this.”

“No, Derek, you’ve got it wrong-“ Stiles started, but Derek cut him off.

“But I should probably know, so there’s no more surprises, how far did you take it? I mean, did you sleep with him?” Derek asked bluntly, voice slightly cold, looking at him again with that unreadable gaze. Stiles blinked at him, pieces slotting together. Was Derek _jealous?_

“No,” Stiles said quietly, in answer to his question. Derek looked a little surprised.

“You didn’t?” he asked.

“No, we didn’t,” Stiles answered, chancing a step in Derek’s direction. “We kind of had a thing; we made out a couple of times and went on _one_ date. That’s it. And I told you, he wasn’t that different from you. You guys are kind of literally the same person.”

Derek didn’t answer, just continued to stare at Stiles. His impassive shell was cracking a little, beginning to show vulnerability, and Stiles took another step, further closing the gap between them.

“It wasn’t actually my idea to take it slow. To be honest, I wasn’t super excited about that,” Stiles told him. Derek’s shoulders hunched a little and he looked away, but Stiles continued, closing the space between them little by little, heart pounding in his chest. “But I’m actually glad we did. Because the other you? He was right.” By now, Derek was close enough to touch and Stiles could lower his voice a little.

“Right about what?” Derek asked. Stiles swallowed hard, praying he wasn’t misreading this situation before he showed his hand.

“When I asked him why he hadn’t really made a move he told me it was because I wasn’t his. I didn’t belong to him. And he was right about that. I couldn’t be his,” Stiles ended on a timid whisper, and this time Derek took a step forward, closing the last of the distance between them, but still not actually touching.

“You couldn’t?” Derek repeated, voice pitched low, intimate. Stiles shivered.

“No,” he replied, closing his eyes as Derek lifted a hand to his neck and tilted their foreheads together.

“Why not?” 

Stiles swallowed again, silently cursing Derek for making him say it. He opened his eyes and met the intense green gaze that was so close now.

“Because, I belong here, with you. I didn’t know it, but I think I was already yours.”

They stood, staring at each other with only a breath of space between them. Derek seemed frozen to the spot, watching Stiles in what looked like part fear and part hope. So, Stiles took that final leap. He slowly closed that last distance between them, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to Derek’s lips.

And that was it.

Derek took control of the kiss, pressing his mouth to Stiles’, pulling him desperately closer. One hand was tangled in Stiles’ hair, the other arm wrapped tightly around his waist, as if now that he had him, Derek had no intention of ever letting go. Stiles had no complaints about that as he fisted his own hands in Derek’s shirt and breathlessly opened his mouth to let in Derek’s tongue. 

Apparently satisfied that Stiles wasn’t going anywhere, Derek’s hands began to wander, pushing at Stiles’ flannel until Stiles took the hint and pulled it off, throwing it aside. Stiles threw his arms around Derek’s neck as Derek began urging him backward, all the while exploring Stiles’ mouth like he was starving for it.

Eventually, the back of Stiles knees met the couch and, with a little push from Derek, he let himself fall back on it. He stared up at the werewolf standing between his legs, chest heaving. Derek’s hair was a mess from Stiles’ hands, and his lips were swollen and red. Just knowing he had done that was incredibly hot, and he reached out and grabbed Derek’s arm, pulling him down on top of him.

Derek immediately brought their mouths back together for a few frantic seconds, Stiles guiding their limbs so they were at least sort of properly laying across the couch, Derek’s weight pinning him. Stiles impatiently shoved his hands up Derek’s shirt, urging him to take it off. Derek sat up on his knees long enough to comply, stilling for a moment when Stiles gaped at the view.

“God, how are you real?” he breathed. 

Derek just smirked and tugged pointedly at Stiles’ t-shirt, and Stiles hurriedly whipped it off and away. Derek stared down at him hungrily, then leaned back over him to press their lips together again. As they kissed, Stiles let his hands wander over the warm skin of Derek’s chest, down his abs, down to the trail of course hair that led from his navel to the waistband of his underwear, where they showed above his jeans. He wasn’t really brave enough to keep moving down, though, so he traced his hands back up to thumb at Derek’s nipples, making the other man pull him tighter and groan into his mouth. It may have been cheating that Stiles’ already knew that particular weakness, but he would take any advantage he could get.

Derek began to trail kisses down his jaw to that spot right below his ear, and Stiles tilted his head back to give him better access. That must have appealed to the alpha in Derek, because that simple gesture got a little hum of satisfaction out of him. He nosed down Stiles’ neck, leaving feather-light little kisses that had Stiles squirming. Then, when he got to where Stiles neck met his shoulder, he paused for a second, pressing firmer kisses to the skin there. Then he latched his mouth on and sucked hard. 

Stiles couldn’t control his gasp or the way his spine arched at the sudden intensity. Derek growled and grabbed his hips, grinding down on him as he worried the skin of Stiles’ neck with his teeth.

“Oh god,” Stiles gasped, head thrown back and hips thrusting up to meet Derek’s. The resulting friction tore groans out of both of them, and Derek moved his mouth back up to toy with Stiles’ earlobe. 

“Mine,” he growled quietly, almost a question.

“Yours,” Stiles moaned in confirmation. “God, Derek, so yours.”

With a satisfied grunt, Derek returned to attack Stiles’ mouth with his own. Stiles caught sight of glowing red in Derek’s slitted eyes, and felt a shiver of lust shoot straight to his throbbing dick. God, he’d never been so hard.

Derek kissed him hungrily while he grabbed hold of his hips and rearranged them slightly. When he settled his weight back down, Stiles realized he had lined them up perfectly, so that Stiles could feel the hard line of Derek’s erection pressed beside his own.

“Fuck yes,” he hissed. Then all words left him as Derek rolled his hips down into Stiles’, making him writhe against the perfect pressure. Derek continued to roll his hips, never letting up on his assault on Stiles mouth.

An embarrassingly short time later, though, Stiles had to rip his mouth away to gasp for air, hands twisted in Derek’s hair.

“Shit, Derek, I’m- _ah-_ ,” Stiles tried to get out a warning, words failing him as his hips thrust helplessly in counterpoint to Derek’s. Rather than taking the hint and backing off, though, Derek just pulled his head back far enough to watch Stiles’ face as he ground down _harder_. Stiles cried out, hands pulling reflexively on Derek’s hair, making the werewolf groan and close his eyes. When he opened them again, his gaze was red and intense as he began to pump his hips against Stiles’ with intention.

“Oh god, Derek…oh _oh_ ,” Stiles panted, back arching. He couldn't hold back anymore, and Derek knew it, relentlessly angling his hips in a way that felt _so good._  Stiles' orgasm hit him like a freight train, and he was pretty sure he made an embarrassing amount of noise. He was vaguely aware of Derek’s fierce stare as his muscles spasmed and thick warmth filled his boxers, but he was too overwhelmed to worry about what his face looked like. Derek didn’t seem too put off by it, in any case.

As his body finally relaxed back against the sofa, twitching every few moments in little aftershocks, he let his eyes drift closed with a groan. He felt Derek’s weight lift slightly off of him as he tried to recover feeling in his extremities. After a few seconds, though, he became aware of movement above him. He cracked his eyes open to see Derek, still watching him, hand in his own pants as he sought his own relief. Stiles pushed himself on his elbows, humming in protest.

“No, let me,” he demanded weakly. He maneuvered himself into sitting position, ignoring the uncomfortably wetness in his pants.

“You don’t have to…,” Derek gasped, eyes slitted.

“But I want to,” Stiles argued, batting Derek’s hands away and reaching for his open fly. Derek sat up on his knees, giving Stiles room to ease his jeans a little out of the way, leaving Derek in his grey boxer briefs. 

Rather than immediately getting those out of the way too, Stiles cupped him through is underwear, feeling the weight of him. He teased his hands over the cotton, feeling out the shape of him with his fingers. Derek groaned pleadingly, but tilted his hips forward into the attention. Stiles rubbed his thumb in a little circle over the wet patch of pre-come, making Derek gasp.

“Stiles, please,” he whispered, fists clenched. Stiles decided he’d probably waited long enough, and that he’d hopefully have plenty of time to explore later. He eased Derek’s underwear down, and found himself suddenly face to face with his first bare erection.

It looked painfully hard, so Stiles didn’t waste time wrapping his fist around it and giving an experimental stroke. The angle was awkward, so Stiles pushed at Derek’s hip, hinting at him to sit back down. It was apparently too much for Derek, though, and he fell all the way back, landing on his back with his head at the opposite end of the couch. Stiles could work with that.

He crawled up between Derek’s legs, although he ended up trapping him a little by sitting on his pants that were still stretched between his knees. He wrapped his hand back around Derek’s erection, pleased to find the angle much better. He pumped his fist a few times, the glide aided by the pre-come trickling out of the slit. He looked up to Derek’s face, gratified to see that his eyes were still red, watching Stiles’ hand slide up and down his cock. He had his lower lip between his teeth, breathing heavily through his nose.

Stiles tightened his hand and sped up the strokes, including little twists over the head like he knew he liked. Derek gasped, eyes closing as his hips began to hitch up to meet Stiles’ strokes. 

“Come on, big guy,” Stiles murmured, bringing his other hand in to play with Derek’s balls, which were drawing up higher by the second. “Come for me. I want to see you.”

Finally, Derek was pushed over the edge. His mouth fell open and his eyes shut tightly as his back arched. His come shot out in thick ropes, landing on his abs and Stiles’ hands. His hands clenched into tight fists in the pillow above his head and his hips thrust frantically. Stiles thought it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, as he continued to stroke Derek through is orgasm. 

Eventually, Derek’s body relaxed, and he reached for Stiles’ hand, pulling him up into his arms. Stiles went willingly, ignoring the mess and burying his face contentedly into the crook of Derek’s shoulder. They both stayed that way, silent, just basking in the afterglow and each other’s presence. They lay there long enough that Stiles would have thought Derek was asleep if it wasn’t for the hand tracing gently up and down his spine.

Stiles lifted his head, and Derek met his gaze with heavily lidded green eyes.

“So…” Stiles cleared his throat. “Now what?”

“Now I think we need a shower,” Derek told him sleepily. Orgasms apparently slowed down Derek’s brain. Good to know.

“Yeah, but I mean…what about us?” Stiles asked nervously. Derek seemed to catch on then, his eyes clearly somewhat as he watched Stiles a bit warily.

“What do you want?” he asked carefully. Stiles thought for a moment, fear warring with desire.

“You,” he answered finally, honestly as he could. 

Derek’s answering smile was small, but blinding in it’s beauty.

“Then you’ve got me,” Derek replied, pulling him in to kiss him gently.

 

oOo

 

Derek let Stiles have the first shower, leaving out sweats and a t-shirt for him while he called in for burgers. They sat on the floor in front of the television, letting it play for background noise while they ate. Neither of them seemed to be able to stop touching the other.

They had taken yet another make-out break in their meal, this one starting to get interesting with Derek pressing Stiles back against the couch, when suddenly Derek lifted his head toward the door. Then he groaned and dropped his head to Stiles shoulder, just as the sliding door began to open.

“Hello, gentlemen,” Peter’s jovial voice drifted over the back of the couch. “I certainly hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

Stiles leaned around the side of the couch to glare at Peter, while Derek moved back into his own space. Peter pointedly sniffed the air and raised a judgy eyebrow. Stiles stuck his tongue out at him.

“I’ll just make myself scarce then, shall I?” Peter chuckled, heading for the stairs. 

Stiles looked at Derek hopefully, but Derek shook his head and tapped his ear. Right. Werewolf hearing. Stiles sighed, shoveling the last of his fries into his mouth and pushing himself to his feet.

“I should probably get going, anyway,” Stiles said.

“Oh, ok,” Derek replied, looking sad. Stiles couldn’t resist pulling him in and kissing him gently.

“It’s my dad. He says I still have to be home on school nights, _alone_ ,” he explained. Derek nodded, but pulled him back in to kiss him more thoroughly.

“Guess you should head out then,” he said, not showing any sign of letting him go.

“Yeah,” Stiles agreed, a little breathless, going back in for another kiss. God, he could so get used to this. He wound his arms around Derek’s neck, tightening their embrace as their lips brushed and pressed continuously. Neither of them were necessarily trying to make it anything more, but neither wanted to end it either.

It was Derek who finally found the strength to pull back, loosening his grip on Stiles’ waist.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asked quietly.

“Definitely,” Stiles replied with a grin.

 

oOo

 

John took one look at Stiles’ disheveled appearance and borrowed clothes and rolled his eyes heavenward. 

“You know the rules, son,” he reminded him. As he brushed past Stiles to get down the stairs, though, he smiled ruefully. “I’m glad you boys worked it out.”

Stiles blushed, but couldn’t help his satisfied grin.

**Author's Note:**

> I welcome any and all notes! Like I said, this is my first fic, so I'm still learning! 
> 
> I'm trying to steadily post new chapters at least once a week, stay tuned!
> 
> I'm not very good at Tumbr-ing, but I'd love to hear from you! My writing tumblr is [here.](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/fanlocked-writergirl)


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